


You Pick Up All The Pins

by Agnol117



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 22,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agnol117/pseuds/Agnol117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She dedicated her life to putting Shepard back together. It seems that something of that rubbed off. Primarily a retelling of the events of Mass Effects 2 and 3 from Miranda's POV, though there is some original content and some deviations from the plot of the games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Horizon._

_If my information is correct -- and it’d better be, since it cost me a small fortune -- this is where I’ll find my father._

_From orbit, it looks peaceful. At this distance, you can’t see the bodies._

_It’s hard to believe it’s been a year. Of course, Horizon was different then. The threat was different then. The Collectors._

_I’ve never told anyone this, but since Horizon, I’ve had nightmares. Bad ones. When I closed my eyes, I could see the pods. The swarms. The salarian’s defenses made sure they ignored us, but they still flew by us, around us -- close enough that I could feel their wings beating on my cheek. I shudder at the memory._

_In the nightmares, the defenses don’t work. The seeker swarms sense us, attack us. We are paralyzed, and I’m forced to watch as the swarms reach Shepard. They overwhelm her, but they want her alive. The rest of us are expendable. The last thing I see before a Collector shoves me in a pod is the sniper rifle dropping uselessly from Shepard’s hands. Without it, she seems almost naked. The pod starts to close around me._

_That’s when I wake up._

_A year later, and that’s what scares me. Not the Illusive Man’s spies. Not the dread of what I’ll find when I land. Not even the knowledge that Kai Leng might be hunting me. What scares me most is the fear that Shepard will be taken from me, and I’ll be powerless to stop it._

_I bring up the picture of her one last time. But she’s not here. Not this time. This time, I have to do it without her._

_“Goodbye, Shepard.” I shut down the holo. Can’t let it distract me now. I set the shuttle’s autopilot for a landing course, and double check my weapons. If this is to be my last act, I may as well be prepared._


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While the scripts from the games are being used as guidelines in some cases, I'm not strictly adhering to them at all points.

_Cronos Station -- Three Years Earlier_

 

“Shepard did everything right. More than we could have hoped for.” The view of Anadius on the other side of the window might have been breathtaking, if I hadn’t been here before. “Saving the Citadel -- even saving the Council. Humanity has the trust of the entire galaxy…and still it’s not enough.” I looked over my shoulder at the Illusive Man. He sat slouched in his chair, casually smoking a cigarette and appearing to review news feeds, but he was listening to me.

“Our sacrifices have earned the Council’s gratitude, but Shepard remains our best hope.” He causally tapped ash off the end of his cigarette, still staring at the holo-displays before him.

“But they’re sending her to fight geth. Geth!” I strode through one of the displays, the blue light distorting as I did, and the Illusive Man looked at me for the first time since I’d entered the room. “We both know they’re not the real threat. The Reapers are still out there.” I paused in front of the chair, but still a respectful distance away. I may have outranked everyone else on the station -- barring the Illusive Man, of course -- but there were some rules even I didn’t dare break.

“And it’s up to us to stop them.” His strangely glowing blue eyes flickered up at me one last time before turning to a datapad handed to him by a secretary I didn’t recognize.

“The Council will never trust Cerberus. They’ll never accept our help. Even after everything humanity has accomplished.” I felt myself getting agitated, and took a deep breath to steady myself. This was a discussion we’d had before. The Illusive Man had laughed at my desire to try contacting the Council in the first place. He’d been right to. But we had to try. And now, it was time for a new tactic. “But Shepard...they’ll follow her. She’s a hero, a bloody icon.” And now for the gamble. A small one, but a gamble all the same. “But she’s just one woman. If we lose Shepard, humanity might well follow.”

There was a pause while the Illusive Man very deliberately snuffed out his cigarette, then looked up at me. “Then see to it that we don’t lose her.” There was the order I was looking for. A slight smile crossed my lips.

“I’ll have a ship en route to the _Normandy_ ’s latest assignment area within the hour.”

 

_Lazarus Station -- One Month Later_

 

I looked down at the stasis tube, and the body within it -- if it could even be called a body at this point. It was a burned out husk, hardly enough to even be called a corpse. The only redeeming thing was the helmet. By some miracle, it was largely intact, and with it, the brain of Commander Adrian Shepard.

The timeline we’d put together was mind boggling. Based on the distress calls, the _Normandy_ had been attacked mere moments after I’d received permission to go after it -- and within minutes, the ship was crushed. The _SSV Normandy_ , the most advanced ship the Alliance had ever built, and whatever had attacked it had taken it down like it wasn’t even there. Evidence currently pointed to the Collectors, since they’d been the ones trying to buy the body from the Shadow Broker, but without anything to compare the _Normandy_ ’s black box records to, we couldn’t be certain.

A noise to my left reminded me that the asari was still standing there. Doctor Liara T’Soni. Barely more than a teenager as far as the asari were concerned, yet one of the galaxy’s foremost experts on Protheans. Not to mention a former member of Shepard’s crew, and the only non-Alliance crew member on the _Normandy_ when it went down.

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” I looked at the asari. It was common enough knowledge that Shepard had been involved with T’Soni. To some, it had seemed too perfect -- the Prothean expert dating the only person of our era to have been touched by the Prothean Cypher -- but now, to see the look on T’Soni’s face, I couldn’t doubt that she’d truly felt something for Shepard.

“What happens now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. We were lead to believe the body was in a much better condition than this. If it wasn’t for DNA scans, I’d have a hard time believing this body was even human, let alone Shepard’s. In this state, I’m not sure that Project Lazarus can save her.”

Rage flashed across T’Soni’s face. “Then why try at all? Why not,” a slight quiver gave away the asari’s true feelings, “why not let her be?”

This is why we expended the effort to recover the body. I’ll be damned if I don’t try to save her. “What else is there to do? Would you rather the body go back to the Collectors? Who knows what those monsters would have done with it.” I softened my tone, and placed a hand on T’Soni’s shoulder. “We’ll bring her back. Count on it.”

That had the desired effect. T’Soni didn’t exactly brighten, but she no longer looked quite so crushed. “And Feron?”

The drell. Damn, I’d almost forgotten about him. “He knew the risks.” No, that wasn’t good enough. “If any information about him comes through Cerberus’ networks, I’ll be sure it’s passed on to you.” Even the Illusive Man couldn’t disagree with that. As vast as our networks were, it was unlikely that anything would come to us. What harm was there in a promise that would likely never amount to anything.

I tuned the asari out as she said her thanks and left the room. I had more important things to worry about now. I had a report to file, and more importantly, I had Shepard’s body. I turned to the lab techs standing nearby. “Take the body to the medical labs. I want full scans on the body. We need to know the extent of the damage, and I want a report on the project’s viability by the end of the day.”


	3. Chapter Two

_Lazarus Station_

 

“We need a control chip.” I stood in the station’s quantum entanglement array. Everything outside the glowing circle where I stood had been reduced to a muted gray, but the Illusive Man slouched before me in glowing blue. I imagined I looked much the same to him.

“We’ve discussed this before, Miranda. My answer is unchanged.” He took a casual, almost disdainful, drag from his cigarette. I had to fight down the urge to shout at him.

“This could be our last chance. Shepard will be ready soon. She woke up just last week.” I was still looking in to that incident. Wilson alleged that it was an accident, something beyond his control -- the enhancements we’d been forced to make to Shepard had apparently increased her metabolism, meaning the various painkillers, sedatives, and other medicines we’d pumped her full of were being moved through her system far faster than we’d anticipated. There was some logic to this answer. It made sense. What didn’t make sense was how everything had run out at once, despite the different dosages.

“Ah, yes. And do you have anything further to report about that incident?” There was a slight snideness to the Illusive Man’s tone, like he knew more than you did and wanted you to know that. In most cases, it wouldn’t surprise me -- the only person in the galaxy more informed than Cerberus was the Shadow Broker -- but in this case, I doubted the sincerity. Lazarus was my station, and I was loyal. The Illusive Man didn’t have spies here. He didn’t need them.

“Jacob is looking into it.” Jacob Taylor was my head of security. That was one of the demands I’d made when I was assigned to this project. The Illusive Man had put forward other candidates, candidates who were arguably better qualified, but I’d rejected them. I’d worked with Jacob before, had a decent rapport with him, and more importantly, trusted him. That was a rare thing. “I’m awaiting his final report myself. I’ll be sure to forward it to you as soon as it crosses my desk.”

“Be sure that you do.” With that, the connection went dead. I hated being dismissed like that, but I was in no position to argue. Besides, the meaning was clear: I was wrong, both in my choice of security chief and in my continued requests for a control chip. But there was no point in dwelling on it. Best to move on, and hope to have good news to report next time.

 

\---

 

That night, back in my quarters, I found myself reading Shepard’s file again. God only knew how many times I’d read the thing since this project started. I had most of it memorized, but as we drew nearer to Shepard’s hopeful awakening, I found myself reading it more and more.

Adrian Shepard, born 11 April 2154 to Jonathon and Hannah Shepard, both enlisted in the Alliance Navy at the time. Following in her parents’ footsteps, she enlisted the day she turned eighteen. Her father never got to see her carry on this legacy, however, as he died shortly after her eighteenth birthday in an engineering accident. Hannah Shepard was still serving as XO on the _SSV Kilimanjaro_ , as she had been for the past few years.

Shepard’s first mission had been to Akuze, investigating why the initial colonization attempts failed. Her squad was attacked by Thresher Maws, and, according to the official reports, everyone except Shepard was wiped out. Here there was a Cerberus addendum to the file: Akuze had been an attempt to see if Thresher Maws could be controlled. The attempt had proved unfruitful, and the initiative was abandoned. In addition to Shepard, three other Alliance Marines had survived, but two had died while undergoing various tests. The third, a Corporal Toombs, had escaped and attempted to hunt down the scientists responsible. He’d followed a false lead given to him by an undercover Cerberus agent, and when Shepard had attempted to stop him from killing the last scientist, Toombs had killed himself. The scientist, a Doctor Wayne, was taken into Alliance custody but died in his cell before ever standing trial.

Everything between Akuze and Eden Prime was pretty standard fare. Shepard performed well enough to receive notice from those above her, and in 2183, was selected to be the second candidate humanity put forth for Spectre status. Following the events on Eden Prime, she was granted that status, and hunted down the rogue Spectre Saren. Several more Cerberus flags showed up in the report; one concerning the viability of Thorian husks as shock troops (some viability, though the project had to be scrapped once the Thorian was killed and the spores required to make the husks could not be reliably reproduced); one concerning the use of rachni as shock troops (an all around failure, as rachni without a connection to a queen simply went berserk. Attempts had been made to capture the queen Shepard had set loose, but so far no progress had been made). A note had been made about Shepard going out of her way to save the colony of Zhu’s Hope, but that seemed incidental. The Virmire reports were interesting, though. First, a report from STG regarding Shepard apparently talking down the krogan Urdnot Wrex. Then, Shepard’s own report about her discussion with Sovereign. Finally, another of Shepard’s reports, this time concerning the mission’s end and the loss of Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. This was followed by a report on Ilos -- and another Cerberus flag, this time concerning the attempt to recover the Prothean VI Vigil, though this ultimately failed as Vigil’s power source failed shortly after Shepard spoke to it. Next was a report on the Battle of the Citadel, including Shepard’s final fight with Saren. Finally, there were a few reports on Shepard’s geth hunting missions, and a report on her death. All of it information I’d read hundreds of times before.

The sudden blaring of the alarm had me on my feet with a gun drawn almost before I realized what I was hearing. The alarm could only mean one thing.

Lazarus Station was under attack.


	4. Chapter Three

_Lazarus Station_

 

Several thoughts raced through my mind as I made my way toward the med bay: who was attacking us? Why were they attacking us? How had they even found this station? And, most importantly: if we were under attack, as the klaxons seemed to indicate, why hadn’t I encountered any enemy forces yet?

I hated to admit it, but all evidence currently pointed to this being an inside job.

My suspicions were confirmed when I reached a security station. The guards on duty were both dead, shot several times at close range. The shooters were still present: two of the stations LOKI security mechs. A biotic push slammed them into one another and knocked them down, giving me time to shoot both cleanly in their “heads.”

The threat dealt with, I went to the console and called up the med bay cameras. Shepard was still safe, but more LOKI mechs were closing on her location. I was too far away to do anything, I didn’t have time to try Jacob, and I didn’t know who else I could trust on the station. Dammit. Even from the camera, I could tell that though Shepard was mostly intact, some of her scars weren’t fully healed yet. I hated to wake her up like this, but if I did nothing, we’d lose her. I swore as I punched up an override command into my omnitool, and remotely injected stimulant into the commander. The effects were faster than I’d anticipated, even knowing about the enhanced metabolism.

“Shepard.” I set the system to broadcast just to the room Shepard was in. A brief look of confusion on her face told me she could hear me. “Shepard, there’s no time to explain. We’re under attack. Your armor is in the locker in the corner.” That was a slight lie. The armor wasn’t actually N7 armor -- our agents in the Alliance Military couldn’t actually get that for us, high placed as they were. A minor setback, really. The armor in the locker certainly looked like the N7 armor Shepard wore in the vids and on the recruitment posters, but it was actually a significantly higher quality. I’d spared no expense bringing Shepard back; I wasn’t about to send her into combat in subpar armor.

Shepard rose, moving like someone who’d been asleep for a while. That was a good sign -- it meant we’d done reasonably well on the muscles we’d grown for her. Of course, the impending attack was sure to provide a more real test of her abilities. I’d have prefered something less intensive as Shepard’s first set of activities, but apparently, someone disagreed.

She recovered quickly. By the time she reached the locker, Shepard was once again moving like normal. She took a quick inventory of the contents, then casually shrugged out of the hospital gown she’d been wearing, either unaware of the cameras in the room, or unconcerned by them. I took the opportunity to look over our work. My work. I’d seen Shepard’s body many times, but this was the first time I’d seen it in motion. Everything looked like it checked out. There were still some final tests I’d like to run, some scans that arguably needed doing, but all in all, she looked great.

The realization of what I’d been doing suddenly dawned on me, and for a second I felt ashamed and turned away from the screen. I’d been examining Shepard like she was nothing more than a specimen, an experiment.

No, that was ridiculous. Shepard was an experiment. She may have been a person, but she was also the result of the Lazarus Project, and...dammit. I’d sort this out later.

I turned back to the screen in time to see Shepard pulling on the armor over the clothes that had been stashed there. Good. “There should be a pistol in the locker.” Shepard pulled it out and began to examine it. Dammit. I’d forgotten how much things had changed in the past two years -- Shepard would never have seen a thermal clip before. “It’s a thermal clip, Shepard. I’ll explain later. Right now, there’s not time. You need to get out of there.” I needed a rendezvous. Somewhere reasonably safe that I could direct Shepard to, but close enough to me that I could stay here to direct her until the end. “Get to the shuttle bay. I’ll update the navpoint on your omnitool.”

Mercifully, the next few rooms Shepard went through were empty, but that wasn’t to last. “Shepard. Mechs are about to breach that door. Get to cover.” This was the real test -- the moment that would determine whether or not the Lazarus Project was a success or a failure. Bringing Shepard back was impressive, but if we’d brought her back and she couldn’t perform the way we needed her too, the the project, and the trillions of credits we’d thrown at it, were a waste. Dammit. This isn’t how I wanted to do this. This should have gone so much slower. I felt myself tensing up as I watched the doors open.

The firefight was over before any of the mechs could enter the room. I was stunned. I’d heard stories about Shepard’s skills, had watched what vids were available -- but the vids were outdated, and stories didn’t measure up. Four mechs, four shots. Flawlessly. With a pistol. I was good -- I’d had the best training money could buy on Earth, and then trained with Cerberus spec ops teams. Shepard made me look like an amateur. The only person I knew who could compare was Kai Leng, a former N7 marine who’d joined Cerberus after a dishonorable discharge, but I doubted even he could have made those shots that quickly that accurately.

Movement in another one of the cameras caught my eye. It was Wilson, activating mechs. Why was he activating mechs? He was a med tech. He paused to pull up a video on his omnitool. I couldn’t make out exactly what he was looking at, but the angle of the camera was discernable. And familiar. Shepard.

“Shepard, follow that navpoint.” Dammit. A station-wide broadcast wouldn’t help things. That’d just tip Wilson off, and likely get him to start going after security stations again. That ruled out contacting Jacob, too -- a quick run through all the cameras couldn’t locate him, so I couldn’t contact him directly. Still, Jacob knew his job, and he knew it well. He’d head toward the med bay, hook up with Shepard, and then head to the shuttles. That just left Wilson.

And damn, I’d lost him. I started going through the cameras again, hoping I might spot him, but something more troubling caught my eye.

I wasn’t sure how he knew where I was, but somehow he’d figured it out. Perhaps he’d overheard me talking to Shepard while he was spying on her? That was the most probable explanation. Figured out I was watching from a security station, and this was the closest one to my quarters. Dammit. Still, how he’d figured it out didn’t matter. What mattered was that there were two ways out of this security station. One led deeper into the station. The other lead almost directly to the shuttle bays. And into that hallway, Wilson had released an YMIR mech.


	5. Chapter Four

_Lazarus Station_

 

An YMIR mech. Lovely.

I was well and truly cornered. Heading deeper into the station just meant dealing with more mechs, and even then wasn’t really an option -- the mechs weren’t just killing people, they were also damaging the station. If I went that way, I might well end up trapped and unable to loop back to the shuttle bays. Going forward wasn’t an option either -- I could think of better ways to commit suicide than trying to take on an YMIR in tight quarters. At the same time, it was the only choice I really had. I needed to get to the shuttle bay.

Dammit. I wasn’t prepared for this.

I took stock of what I had available. I had my pistol, and three spare clips. That gave me forty-eight shots. Even if I was perfectly accurate, that wasn’t enough. With a tech overload from my omnitool, I might be able to short out it’s shields, and then my biotics could weaken the armor, but even that was a longshot. And the security station lacked any real heavy weaponry -- the kind of thing that would help against the YMIR would also blow a hole in the hull. There weren’t even grenades. Just a few assault rifles. On their own, they wouldn’t be a game changer. But if I could take down the shields and armor, an assault rifle would do enough damage to stop the mech. It was a long shot, but it was the best option I had.

I contemplated sabotaging the other door to ensure that I wasn’t attacked from behind while dealing with the YMIR, but another moment’s thought made that seem unwise. Best case scenario, I took out the YMIR. Worst case, I didn’t, and I’d need an escape route. It wasn’t the best plan I’d ever made, but then again, neither was attempting to take on a heavy mech by myself.

According to the cameras, the YMIR was still some distance away. I had one shot at this. I holstered by pistol, picked up the assault rifle, and keyed up the overload on my omnitool. One deep breath later, I ran into the hall.

The YMIR opened exactly as I expected it to -- with a missile. Easy enough to avoid -- I dodged to the mech’s right, and then set off the overload. A slight blue flash told me I’d succeeded in taking out it’s shields. I started to build up a warp field, but had to rush back to the security room to take cover before the mech’s machine guns started firing. Damn. I could put up a barrier, but that wouldn’t stop the bullets. Damn. I’d just have to risk it. Once I heard the guns stop, I darted back into the hall, and let loose with as powerful a warp field as I could muster. That was step two down. I brought the assault rifle to bear as I sidestepped another missile, and opened fire.

This proved to be the hard part. YMIR mechs were considered heavy mechs for a reason, and they had a lot of armor. Even having damaged it, I still went through the bulk of the assault rifle ammo I’d grabbed before I even noticed it slowing down. There was more in the security room, if I went back for it, I’d have more than enough to finish this thing off. I turned to head back to the room.

Just then, a missile flew past me. I threw myself to the ground, but it didn’t matter. The missile hadn’t been aimed well enough to hit me. It had, however, been aimed just right to take out the door to the security room. By a lucky accident, the mech had managed to put me in a position where I wasn’t sure I could destroy it now. Unless…

A well placed shot to an YMIR mech’s “head” would cause the unit to go critical and overload, resulting in an explosion. A very powerful explosion. The kind that could penetrate the hull. And, of course, it was my only shot at getting past this thing. The problem being that if I blew it up from where I was standing, I would be trapped on the wrong side of the breach, and would almost certainly end up spaced. Dammit. Well, I’d known coming into this that I only had one shot.

I dropped the assault rifle -- it was useless to me now -- and broke into a run, charging straight at the YMIR. I threw up a barrier as it’s machine guns started firing, then dove for the gap between the mech’s legs. I barely made it, with one of my elbows clipping the mech as I went through, but I was through. I tucked into a roll and stood up. Now for the hard part.

The mech had to be facing me for my plan to work. It started the slow turn towards me, but I couldn’t stand and wait. I needed to reach the shuttle bay before then -- there had to be a door between me and the mech before it blew, otherwise I’d still end up spaced. It was a fair distance to the shuttle bay -- doable, but not if I got shot in the back as I ran. Damn, this was a terrible plan. I threw a barrier behind me as I ran, and hoped for the best.

At a range, YMIR mechs weren’t particularly accurate. They aren’t meant for it -- ideally, you drop an YMIR right on top of the enemy’s front line, and then sweep up the remains. However, even a mech can get lucky. A round from its gun clipped my shoulder just as I crossed into the shuttle bay, knocking me off balance and costing me precious seconds. I swore as I stumbled. This was already risky enough.

I dropped to one knee before I took the shot. In my mind, I saw Shepard, and the almost casual way she’d taken down the LOKI mechs earlier. Well, I wasn’t Shepard, but I wasn’t bad, either. It took two shots to get the aim right, but sure enough, I soon saw the mech buckling, and the telltale glow of it’s overloading reactor. I stood, slammed on the door close button, and ducked into cover just as the explosion came. I heard it rather than felt it, and the door buckled but held. Thank God for small miracles. Now to go find Shepard.

I had just reached the doors on the opposite side of the bay when they slid open, revealing a very surprised looking Wilson.

“Miranda? But you’re supposed to be --” I cut him off with a single round to the head.

“Dead?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Jacob looked stunned. A pity, really. For all his experience, Jacob was still a nice person. Too nice, sometimes.

“My job. Wilson betrayed us.” I regarded him coldly. He stood down.

“You should have taken him alive. Seen what he knew.” It was the first time I’d seen her in person since she’d woken up. She had red hair that fell just past her face, dull green eyes, and freckles. Freckles. They added a youthful, almost girlish quality to her face. Such a cute feature seemed out of place on the woman that had killed Saren. Not to mention that she was pointing a gun at my face. Way to get off to a good start.

I shook my head. “Too risky. I put too much effort into bringing you back to life to let you get killed now.” I regarded the body. “He sabotaged the security systems, killed my staff -- and he would have killed us.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Jacob looked me over. Surely he couldn’t think I was behind this?

“I’m never wrong, Jacob. I thought you’d have learned that by now.” Jacob visibly relaxed. Good. He’d taken the hint.

“So what now?” Shepard finally lowered her gun.

“We take the shuttle and get out of here. My boss wants to speak with you.”

“You mean the Illusive Man. I know you work for Cerberus.” Dammit, Jacob. Now was exactly the wrong time for your conscience to manifest itself. I looked over at him.

“Lying to the commander won’t get her to join our cause.” I shrugged, and started toward the nearest shuttle.

“What about the rest of the people on this station?” Ah, Shepard. Always the hero.

“This is the evac area. If they’re not here, they’ve either already left or they aren’t coming.”

“We can’t leave without knowing for sure.” At that, I spun around. Shepard hadn’t moved. And dammit, Jacob was standing with her.

“Maybe you don’t get it, Commander, but you’re the only one on this station worth saving. Everyone else is expendable. They knew that coming in.” I could see Shepard struggling with what I’d said, but finally, she relented, and started towards me.

“Where are we going?”

“Another Cerberus facility. The Illusive Man is waiting for you there.”


	6. Chapter Five

_Freedom’s Progress_

 

I was preparing for our final descent when Shepard joined me in the cockpit.

“So what are we expecting to find down there?” Shepard seemed tense since her discussion with the Illusive Man. I didn’t know the specifics of what had gone on in their discussion, but I knew the gist of it: human colonies were disappearing, no one knew why, and perhaps more importantly, no one was actively looking into it. These colonies were, after all, primarily in the Terminus Systems. The Council couldn’t look into them, and most of these colonies had been founded by people who wanted the Alliance out of their lives. Besides, it was just the Terminus. Pirates, marauders, mercenaries -- they all frequented those sectors. Everyone else probably suspected them, and there was nothing that could really be done to prevent that. Not even the turians could realistically field enough ships to protect all the colonies. Cerberus were the only ones even bothering to look into it.

“Honestly? A bunch of abandoned buildings. Some mechs, probably some security drones.” All of this information had been in the brief. I’d seen Shepard reading it. “The colony was completely unremarkable in every way until the attack.”

Shepard made an affirmative noise. “So tell me more about this Lazarus Project. I’d like to hear from the woman in charge.”

“I wasn’t in charge. The Illusive Man was. I just oversaw the project. Had I been in charge, I’d have done things differently.”

“Such as?”

“For starters, I’d have implanted you with a control chip.” I focused on the shuttle’s controls.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I have the utmost faith in your abilities, Shepard, but you have a less than clean history with Cerberus. The Illusive Man thinks you’ll agree to work alongside us if we can recover evidence that this is tied to the Reapers. I would have removed the risk.” There was a bit of turbulence as we entered atmosphere. “As to trust, Commander, if you’re worried I’m going to shoot you in the back, don’t be. You’re in charge here. I can follow orders.”

“Tell me a little about yourself.”

“Worried about my qualifications? I can crush a mech with my biotics, or shoot it’s head off at a hundred yards. Take your pick.”

“Did you and Jacob serve together in the Alliance?” So she’d talked to Jacob? I suppressed a sigh. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. According to the reports, this was what Shepard did.

“No, the Illusive Man recognized my potential and recruited me at a young age.”

“How old?” The worst of it was, she sounded sincere, like she was actually interesting. I considered my answer carefully.

“Old enough to know this was what I wanted.”

“I was trying to get to know you as a human being.” She actually sounded hurt.

“I’m not looking for a friend, Shepard. Stay focused on the mission.” I glanced over the shuttle’s displays. “You may wish to strap in for landing, Commander.” Shepard regarded me silently, but strapped in all the same.

The landing was as smooth as could be expected. There was already a shuttle on the small colony’s only landing pad, so we had to land on raw earth a bit further away. Once we’d landed, we assembled outside the shuttle.

“What makes you think this investigation will turn up anything new?” Shepard was facing both of us, but after our conversation in the cockpit, it was clear she was talking to Jacob.

“With the other colonies, official investigators have gotten there first. Sometimes looter and salvagers, too. With this one, we’re hoping to be the first responders.”

“Our first priority is to look for survivors.”

“That’s unlikely, Commander. No one was left at the other colonies. They were completely deserted.” Shepard gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, but Jacob shot me a cold look.

“Be nice to find someone, though. Anything’s better than another ghost town.” Silently, I agreed. The few occasions I’d been pulled away from Lazarus Station in the past two years had been to investigate disappeared colonies. I’d been to several, and the eeriness of walking through a colony that should have been full of life was something you never got used to. Shepard just nodded again.

“Let’s move, people.” Shepard took point, and we began our search.

Compared to searches I’d led at other colonies, this search almost didn’t count. Shepard moved quickly from building to building, giving each one only a quick sweep before moving on. It was certainly efficient, but it gave the whole operation a distinct military feel, rather than an investigative one. I wanted to say something, to criticize Shepard, but she was in charge here. After all, she was a soldier. I shouldn’t have expected otherwise.

All the same, Freedom’s Progress was much different than any of the other colonies we’d visited. The abduction couldn’t have taken place more than a day ago -- there was still food on several tables, and it hadn’t yet started to rot. More than one house had plates of half-eaten food set out, as though someone had gotten up from the table with the intention of returning. That, unfortunately, just made the whole thing seem eerier. The other colonies had had a sterile empty feel. This one had the very distinct feeling that people should have been here but weren’t. In a lot of ways, that was worse.

The appearance of security mechs changed things. More so when they started shooting at us. That was definitely atypical behavior. Mechs were rarely programmed to target intruders indiscriminately. That sort of programing required everyone in the colony to both have some sort of ID device that transmitted a safe code and to carry it at all times. And the system was far from perfect -- you occasionally heard reports on the extranet of civilians being shot because their badge hadn’t worked properly. Not only that, but such systems were expensive. Freedom’s Progress was a relatively small colony on a world with no particularly valuable resources. The colony had been doing well enough, but there was no way it could have afforded that kind of security system. This meant that the mechs had been reprogrammed to attack anyone in the colony.

None of us wanted to say it, but that suggested that there was someone alive here.

Furthermore, judging by the number of mechs we were encountering, it seemed like most of the colony’s mechs were accounted for. For whatever reason, they apparently hadn’t intervened during the disappearance, and hadn’t been reprogrammed until afterwards. Just more evidence that there was someone alive here.

But who? And why? What made this person so special that they hadn’t been taken when everyone else was? Had they been able to hide in some way that others couldn’t? We’d find out soon enough.

We pushed on, soon coming to a locked door. That was suspicious. None of the other doors in the colony had been locked. Most of them hadn’t even been shut. Jacob and I assumed cover positions on the sides of the door almost before Shepard had signaled for us to, then waited as she began to hack the lock. From where I stood, I thought I could hear voices inside, but it was too quiet to make out. For all I knew, someone had left an entertainment vid on before the abduction.

We entered the room, guns at the ready -- and found ourselves facing a squad of quarian marines, also pointing their guns at us. One of them shouted at us to stop as another -- an unarmed female in purple, shoved in front, trying to regain control. Apparently, she was a lousy leader. Then she turned to face us, and paused.

“Shepard? You’re alive?” So the quarian knew Shepard? Interesting. It could have been Tali’zorah, but I had no way of telling. I’d only ever seen her in the pictures from the Normandy, and this quarian wasn’t wearing the same environmental suit.

“Cerberus rebuilt me,Tali. In return, they asked me to investigate these attacks against human colonies.” Spoken so diplomatically -- so it seemed Shepard hadn’t lost that, either. Shepard lowered her gun. Jacob followed suit, and after a second’s hesitation, so did I, though I noted that none of the quarians had.

“You’ll forgive us for not taking Cerberus operatives at their word.” The angry sounding male with the shotgun spoke again. I rolled my eyes.

“We have every right to investigate attacks on a _human_ colony.” I stared Shotgun down. Tali still stood in front of him. In the time it took for him to clear her, I could get my pistol out and put a round into his helmet. The others had lowered their weapons -- I could get at least one of them, too, before they could be back in a ready position. But I wasn’t in charge, and Shepard hadn’t ordered an attack. “I’d like to know what the quarians are doing here.”

For a moment, there was no answer. Tali turned back to her subordinate, and glared at him. I suspected they were having a discussion on a private channel -- an advantage of having to wear helmets everywhere. Finally, Shotgun lowered his weapon and stepped back, and Tali turned to address us again.

“How do I know this isn’t some Cerberus trick?” I frowned. We didn’t have time for this.

“I helped you on your pilgrimage. We recovered data on the geth on Solcrum, and I gave you a copy to take back to the fleet.” I looked at Shepard. The reports hadn’t mentioned that. She’d fought geth in the Armstrong Nebula, yes, and turned the data she’d received over to the Alliance, but she’d failed to mention this. Interesting. Tali simply nodded.

“One of our people, Veetor, was here on pilgrimage. We came to find him.”

“Everyone else is missing. What makes you think he’s still here?”

“We saw him when we landed.” Shotgun interjected.

“You saw him? Then why isn’t he here with you?” Jacob stared defiantly at the quarians.

“He ran when he saw the shuttle, and hid in the warehouse on the other side of the colony.” Tali gestured out a window. “Veetor has always been a bit nervous. We think he’s the one who reprogrammed the mechs to fire at anything that moved.”

“Then Veetor’s the only one who’ll be able to tell us what happened here. We should work together to find him.” Teaming up with the quarians? What was Shepard thinking? Hopefully, they’d refuse. Then we could subdue them and get Veetor ourselves. However, Tali nodded.

“Good idea. Two teams will make it easier to get past the drones.”

“Now we’re working with Cerberus?” Shotgun shouted suddenly.

“No, Prazza, you’re working for me. If you have a problem with that, you’re welcome to go wait on the ship.” For a moment, it looked as though the male might actually leave -- or worse, start a fight -- but he stood down. “Shepard, head for the warehouse in the middle of the colony. I’ll take my people around the far side and draw off some of the drones.”

Shepard nodded. “Stay in radio contact. Use the frequency we did in the old days.” More references to things not in the files. Lovely. Tali and Shepard both programmed a frequency into their omnitools before the quarians started out. As I followed Shepard out of the room, I quickly set my omnitool to match the frequency on hers -- an advantage of having chosen the omnitool Shepard received. Besides, the Illusive Man would want to know all of this later.

The trek to the warehouse was largely without incident. A few more mechs, and some aerial drones attacked us, but it wasn’t anything any more threatening than we’d already faced. The quarians hadn’t reported anything of any importance, either. Soon enough, the warehouse was in sight. Then: “Prazza, no!” Sounds of gunfire came over the radio. “Shepard, hurry. We’re in the loading docks. Veetor reprogrammed a heavy mech, and it’s tearing Prazza’s squad apart.” _Well, Prazza did want to get to Veetor first._ “Get your squad in position, then I’ll open the doors. Hurry!” I waited until Shepard signalled for me to before I took up a position by the door. After all, she didn’t know I was listening in. Shepard radioed in the affirmative, and the door slowly slid open.

Wait, had Tali said “heavy mech?”

_Dammit._

The door slid opened to reveal an YMIR mech just finishing off a quarian squad. Great. Two in one day. At least this time, I had back up and room to maneuver.

Jacob and I had encountered YMIR mechs together before, and had developed something of a plan to fight them. I opened by firing off a tech overload, and then, once we’d seen the shields drop, Jacob and I both launched a biotic warp at it. I glanced over my shoulder to see what Shepard was up to, but she’d vanished. Lovely. Take my eyes off the Commander for three seconds and she leaves. Suddenly, though, there was a loud report of a sniper rifle, and Shepard blinked into existence beside me. She’d been cloaked. Of course.

Then, a familiar glow started to emit from within the warehouse. The YMIR was going critical. Shepard had gone for the headshot. Of course -- she didn’t know. The YMIR wasn’t introduced until after she’d died. Grabbing Shepard, I pulled her into me, getting her out of the doorway just before the explosion. I released her as the dust settled, and took a step back. “YMIR mechs go critical after a headshot. Design flaw.” Shepard just nodded, and headed into the warehouse.

Veetor was holed up in the warehouse’s security room. Shepard signalled for Jacob and I to stay back while she and Tali spoke with the injured quarian. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they apparently managed to get him calm. Then, Shepard asked if he knew anything about the attack. A few button pressed laterr, and a familiar image was displayed on the monitor banks.

A Collector. The Illusive Man was right.


	7. Chapter Six

_The Normandy SR2_

 

“I am not having an AI on my ship.” Shepard turned angrily towards me. Her ship? I fought the urge to

roll my eyes. Give her a ship, and her old pilot, and tell her she’s in charge of the mission and suddenly she forgets who she’s working for.

“Have I offended?” EDI sounded confused, and a bit hurt. Not for the first time, I marvelled at how much EDI resembled an actual human. Then again, that was the point, wasn’t it?

“Shepard’s spent a lot of time battling rogue AIs. The geth, mostly, but there was also that incident on Luna, with the Alliance’s Hannibal program.”

“Your distrust is logical, Shepard. Most humans merely blindly distrust AIs. However, I am no threat to you or the ship. I collect data and make observations. Nothing more.” Shepard watched EDI’s avatar over her shoulder as it spoke, then turned back to me.

“Joker’s not going to like this.” She said finally. I merely shrugged. “Anyone else on board I should meet?”

“The _Normandy_ has a full crew. You can introduce yourself to them at your leisure. For now, may I suggest you look over the dossiers and decide on a course?” I held out a datapad. The dossiers had been assembled by a Cerberus operative who went by the name of Rasa. The Illusive Man had given us five dossiers thus far, stating he’d provide more support once we knew what we were up against. The dossier I’d called up was for a salarian, Mordin Solus. “May I suggest we start with Doctor Mordin Solus, on Omega? It’s likely we’ll need him to create a countermeasure to the swarms.” That was how Veetor had evaded capture. The Collectors apparently prefaced their invasions by releasing swarms of an insect like creature into the colony. These insects immobilized the targets, who were then extracted by the Collectors. Veetor’s environmental suit had shielded him from the swarm’s detection, but we couldn’t wear such suits. Shepard took the datapad, and spent a minute examining it.

“There’s three dossiers for Omega. We’ll start there. Joker! Set a course for Omega.” Joker responded affirmatively. Shepard turned to go, but motioned for me to follow. “So I hear you’re my XO.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Do you answer to me or to the Illusive Man?” We’d stopped by the elevator. I fought back a sarcastic response.

“Both. This is a Cerberus mission, Commander, on a Cerberus ship, with a Cerberus crew. And I’m the ranking Cerberus operative. The Illusive Man has a personal interest in this mission. It’s my job to keep him up to date. However, I am assigned to this mission, and thus, assigned to work with you. I’ll follow your orders, so long as you don’t order me to keep the Illusive Man out of the loop.” The Commander nodded, and the elevator doors opened. Both of us stepped inside.

“How long to Omega?” Shepard hit the intercom button on the control panel. Joker’s voice filled the elevator in response.

“About five hours, Commander.”

“Where are my quarters located? I’d like to rest before we get to Omega.”

“Captain’s quarters are deck one, Shepard.” I rode up with her, watched as she entered her quarters, then rode down to mine on deck three. Shepard may have spoken with the Illusive Man after our mission, but I still had a report to file.


	8. Chapter Seven

_The Normandy SR2_

 

It was hard not to be overly critical of Shepard in my report. Strictly speaking, she hadn’t done anything wrong on Freedom’s Progress -- by all accounts, the mission was a success: we’d fulfilled our objectives, even when the mission parameters had changed. More than a success, really. We’d just been looking for evidence of who’d done it. We’d found proof. It was hard to argue with results, and Shepard had certainly gotten them. Besides, the Illusive Man knew that I had been opposed to Shepard being in charge of the mission from square one. Any complaints about how I’d have done things differently, more in line with Cerberus’s ideals, and I’d look like I was being petty.

I frowned at my terminal. This was getting me nowhere. I had to submit something to the Illusive Man. After a few more minutes of staring blankly at the terminal, I typed up a factual, if bland, report of what had happened. The Illusive Man could chastise me for it later if he wished.

That project done, I called up the dossiers on my terminal. I’d seen this batch before -- in fact, I’d helped trim Rasa’s original picks down to something that might be usable on this mission. There had been dozens to start with, specialists of all sorts. And even that was apparently only a small sample of the total assembled dossiers. More were being held in reserve, to be presented to me -- and Shepard -- as the mission developed.

Of the dossiers I had now, three were to help combat the Collectors on a technical level: Mordin Solus, Warlord Okeer, and Subject Zero. Solus and Okeer were both scientists, though of different persuasions. Sollus was a salarian, had served with STG on many occasions, and was generally regarded as the foremost expert in the field of genetics. Okeer was different. A krogan scientist, the primary reason Okeer was being scouted was because he was known to have traded with the Collectors in the past. He was alleged to have access to some Collector technology. I had my doubts, but if the Illusive Man thought it was likely enough to check out, then so did I. Both had the potential to create something that would shield us from the seeker swarms, though my bet was firmly on Solus. Finally, Subject Zero. Apparently some sort of biotic prodigy, the intent here was apparently to us a biotic field to keep the swarms off. Well, I wouldn’t stop Shepard if she truly thought this was something worth pursuing, but in the grand scheme of things, it struck me as pointless. You’d have a non combatant in the field, and in addition to having to protect them, you’d have to ensure that their concentration on maintaining the field wasn’t broken.

Moving on, the other two dossiers were for people to simply help us fight. The first wasn’t so much a dossier as a resumé and a contract for the aid of one Zaeed Massani. I’d actually heard of him, though little of it was what I’d consider “good.” Still, if even half the stories were true, then he would be a valuable asset. Like Solus, he was apparently currently on Omega. And so was our final dossier: the turian vigilante known as Archangel. I had my doubts on this one too, but for different reasons. Archangel had made a name for himself by killing criminals in Omega, and Cerberus had a less than stellar reputation amongst non-humans. This Archangel would certainly be a useful ally, but only if he could be persuaded to work with us.

I sighed again. I’d read all of these before. In light of my lacking report, I decided I’d follow Shepard’s lead, and headed to my bed. Four hours until Omega, and I hadn’t slept since before the attack on Lazarus Station. It wasn’t much, but I could work with it.


	9. Chapter Eight

_Omega_

 

I awoke as we went through the relay. I could never sleep through one -- a problem most other people didn’t have. I’d had this oddity checked out, of course. It turned out to be something to do with the sensitivity of my inner ear -- it was finer tuned than other peoples’ in such a way that I was more aware of the shifts as we went through mass effect fields. Other people who suffered from this tended to get extremely severe motion sickness, but my ear were, according to the doctor, calibrated “just right;” I’d notice, but not be made ill. I chalked it up to another gift from my father.

Since I wasn’t technically on duty, I went to the starboard observation deck, and looked out at the station. From a distance, Omega looked almost appealing. There was a certain allure to it -- a station built into the remains of an asteroid. Of course, in truth, it was fundamentally a refuge for the galaxy’s scum and unwanted, but from out here, one could almost ignore that. Accessing the cockpit mics with my omnitool, I listened as Joker went through the process of getting us permission to dock. I didn’t expect trouble, not really, but one could never be too careful. Especially not where Aria T’loak was involved. She’d run afoul of Cerberus a few times in the past -- nothing major, nothing that would make Omega’s unofficial ruler keep us off the station, but there was some friction. If all went according to plan, we might be able to do our business on Omega without ever interacting with Aria at all. One could only hope.

A moment later, the _Normandy_ was on an approach course, and Shepard’s voice came over the ship’s PA system, calling me and Jacob to the CIC to depart. A pity. I’d been hoping to watch the rest of the approach, but I headed to the elevator all the same.

I arrived on Deck Two to find Shepard and Jacob both fully kitted out. I wasn’t surprised, really. They were both soldiers -- my training aside, they were more used to this than I was. My field experience simply couldn’t match either of theirs. Still, Shepard in her N7 armor was something I’d been hoping to avoid. There was no way to hide that we were Cerberus -- the Normandy bore the Cerberus insignia plainly enough -- but having her show up on Omega wasn’t the way I wanted to have Shepard officially return to the galaxy.

“I’d suggest you change your armor, Commander.” I tried to sound as polite as I could. Still, something in how Shepard looked at me told me that wasn’t going to happen. Still not on board with Cerberus, it seemed. “Commander, as far as the rest of the galaxy knows, you’re dead, and have been for two years. In that time, the Alliance has made you out to be a hero -- you’re in their vids, their recruitment posters. They’re even making a vid about the Battle of the Citadel. And everyone knows -- while there are plenty of other N7 marines, that black armor with the red and white stripes? Commander Shepard wears that. You wear that now, and you’re broadcasting to the entire galaxy that Commander Shepard is back -- and that she’s working with Cerberus.”

“So do all the other armors you have for me.” Shepard’s eyes flicked to my chest, and the Cerberus insignia there. I frowned, but she had a point. “I’ll keep what I have, thanks. Besides, what I hear of Omega, it might do us some good, openly displaying that there’s a Spectre present.”

“Or it might have every gun in Omega looking to make a name for themselves as the one who killed Shepard again. I don’t have the resources to bring you back a second time.” In truth, I didn’t know that I could do it a second time, even with the resources. Lazarus Station had self-destructed -- the Illusive Man had seen to that -- and while I was certain there were backups of all the data compiled during the project, some of what had happened had honestly been luck.

“The armor stays.” With that, Shepard turned, and headed for the airlock. It seemed she only took the diplomatic approach when she had to. When she knew she could just order me to go along with it, why bother with playing nice? With a frown, I followed. A control chip would have made this so much easier. I would certainly be making note of this in my next report.

 

\---

 

“Aria wants to see you, Shepard.” A batarian stood by the ramp connected to the _Normandy_ ’s airlock. Addressing Shepard by name? Delightful. It seemed we didn’t have to worry about Shepard outing herself, then. Someone had clearly done that for us. Probably not the quarians -- they’d been on a mission direct from the Migrant Fleet, and likely had gone straight back to it. Besides, no one really communicated much with the quarians. They might occasionally trade with them, or even bribe them to stay away -- Illium and other asari planets did this quite often, apparently -- but actual communication was rare. I didn’t think it was a traitor, either. Rather, I suspected that the Illusive Man had leaked the information himself.

“I’ll make sure we stop by to see her, then.” Shepard had done her homework. Good. The batarian seemed less impressed.

“Aria means now.” Two other batarians and a turian stepped up beside the first. They were all armed, but none of them drew their weapons. They didn’t have to. They were far more civilized than that. If we attacked Aria’s men, we might as well give up on recruiting Solus or Archangel. Shepard seemed to have reached the same conclusion, and merely nodded at the batarian.

“Lead the way.”


	10. Chapter Nine

_Omega_

 

“I am Omega.” Jacob and I were waiting below Aria’s lounge while she and Shepard talked. Most of what they said was lost in Afterlife’s general din, but Aria’s megalomaniacal proclamation was not. Just what we needed now -- an insane asari. _God, Shepard, you’d better be playing nice up there._ A moment later, Omega’s one rule could also be heard over the noise of the club. “Don’t. Fuck. With Aria.” _Shepard, what are you getting into?_ If this became a firefight, we’d lose. Badly. There were no less than five mercs in the immediate space, and that was just the obvious ones. There were undoubtedly more, not to mention that Aria herself was an asari matriarch -- a powerful biotic, and damned good in other forms of combat, if the stories were true.

My fears were for nothing, though, as a few minutes later Shepard came down the stairs from Aria’s lounge. “I know where to find Archangel.”

“But Solus --,” I started, but Shepard held up a hand to cut me off.

“The salarian can wait. Archangel can’t.” Shepard made her way into the club proper, then headed towards the private rooms. “Apparently, he’s got the merc groups here mad at him. Mad enough that they’ve formed a temporary alliance to take him out. We need to get to him before they do.”

“And how do you propose we do that? Ask them to take us there?” I rolled my eyes. At this rate, it might be the better option to simply leave Archangel. Shepard just stopped by one of the rooms and smiled.

“Actually, yes.” Shepard approached the room, and the man guarding it. I noted his blue and white armor -- which told me he belonged to the Blue Suns. “I hear you’re looking for help taking down Archangel.”

The man gave Shepard a once over, noticed the N7 logo on the armor, and did a double take. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“My crew and I would like to sign on.”

 

\---

 

A skycar had taken us -- and several other would-be mercs -- to what the Blue Suns merc we’d signed on with called the staging area. We’d been briefed along the way. The plan was a terrible one, hardly even a plan, really. The freelancers (which included us) were striking first, dashing across a bridge that was the only way to the apartment building where Archangel had taken refuge. It was a kill zone, but hopefully, some of us would make it across. Then the merc groups -- Blue Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pack -- would follow. Their intention seemed to be “force Archangel to run out of ammo then take down a defenseless turian.” Like I said, hardly a plan. To their credit, the Eclipse had brought an YMIR mech with them -- it seemed I’d never get away from them -- and the Blue Suns had a gun ship. Of course, Shepard had taken the opportunity to cloak and sabotage both of them. Still, long odds that we could get to Archangel, convince him we were on his side, recruit him, and then survive.

Which was how I found myself dashing across a bridge, surrounded by the dying.

Archangel was accurate. Frighteningly so, really. Every time I heard his rifle fire, I saw another merc fall, and every time, it was a shot to the head or the throat. The only other person I knew who could make shots that accurately was running a few feet ahead of me. Of course, Archangel’s rate of fire was a bit slower than Shepard’s would have been, but all the same -- it was damned impressive.

And very telling when a shot clipped Shepard’s shoulder.

Everything about the shot suggested it had been aimed to do that. It hit Shepard’s armor, and only her armor. It brought her shields down, but didn’t injure her, didn’t ricochet to me or Jacob. For some reason, Archangel had intended to only clip Shepard. Curious. Of course, I’d have to puzzle it out later. We’d reached the apartment building, and the three of us immediately took cover, and helped Archangel finish off the mercs on the bridge.

Shepard lead the way upstairs. Her movement was relaxed, almost casual. She carried her rifle at her side, as though she had no intention of using it anytime soon. I was tempted to keep my gun at the ready, just in case, but that was insubordination, and if I proved wrong, I’d hear it later. So I followed Shepard’s lead. She seemed to have some confidence that there’d be no difficulty recruiting Archangel. It was a confidence I didn’t share.

Shepard opened the door slowly. Archangel had his back to us, sighting something with his rifle. Apparently, we’d missed one. He held up his free hand, signalling us to wait, and Shepard did. There was a single round fired, then the turian turned. He moved slowly, with a tiredness that suggested he’d been awake for days. Then he pulled off his helmet, and stared us down.

“Shepard. Thought you were dead.” Garrus Vakarian I recognized. It would have been hard not to. He’d achieved a level of celebrity almost on par with Shepard -- the C-Sec officer who’d been right about Saren, but nobody listened. And then, about a year ago, he’d just disappeared. Reports of Archangel cropped up shortly after that. Looking at it now, it all seemed obvious.

“Garrus!” Shepard moved toward her old squadmate. There wasn’t any surprise in her voice. Either she was a good actress or...she couldn’t have known. “What are you doing here?”

“Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice.” Vakarian even sounded tired. Shepard seemed to take notice.

“You okay?”

“Been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face.” Garrus turned toward the window, and his features dropped. “We’ll have to catch up later, Shepard. Eclipse is moving in.” We all took up positions at the windows. There was surprisingly little for Jacob or I to do -- aside from the hacked YMIR mech taking out a lot of Eclipse’s forces, and those that survived were primarily in sniper range. Sure, they were technically within the operation limits of my weapon, but aiming that range without a scope was damn near impossible, and even if I could have, Shepard and Vakarian had a pretty good handle on things. It was over quickly.

Unfortunately, the Blood Pack wasn’t far behind. Worse, they seemed to be coming in through the basement. With a nod to Jacob, he and Shepard took off, leaving me and Vakarian to defend the apartment’s upper level. It was doable, certainly, but only because the turian was a damned good sniper. I took to the lower level -- Vakarian could take out everything except a krogan with one shot, and the Blood Pack had plenty of those. So he’d hit take down everything else, and tag the krogan, and I’d get them as they came into my range. I settled for pushing some of them off the bridge -- even if they survived, it was a long way down, and they’d take ages to get back up. And that was ages fighting through Omega’s lower reaches. They might never make it back.

A sudden roar caught my attention -- Garm, a larger than normal Krogan and leader of the Blood Pack on Omega, had entered the battle. He charged across the bridge, roaring and knocking aside his own soldiers as he went. I saw Vakarian tag him once, twice, three times -- and the krogan didn’t even flinch. It seemed the second shot had merely lowered his shields.

This was exactly the sort of threat I wasn’t prepared to face. Garm large, armored, and angry. And fast. I doubted I could even make the stairs before he got back. Time to get creative, and hope this worked.

I threw a warp field in front of Garm. He was going to fast to avoid it, and thus charged right through it. Good. I saw some of his armor get shaken there, but not enough. Still, there were plenty of cracks in it. I could use that. There was a couch next to the door. I dove behind it, and as soon as I saw the krogan, I pushed it with my biotics as hard as I could, slamming it into Garm. His armor shattered along the cracks, and he finally stopped. Then he turned towards me, hoisting his shotgun. And I’d just thrown my only readily available bit of cover at him.

Then a single shot rang out, and the krogan crumpled. I turned to see Shepard and Jacob emerging from a doorway. Shepard lowered her rifle and flashed a smile as she helped me to my feet. “Interesting tactic, Lawson -- throwing your cover at the enemy.” I flushed. Dammit. Shepard didn’t seem mean-spirited about it, though. “Come on, let’s get back to Garrus.”

That’s when we heard the gunship.

Apparently, whatever Shepard had done to sabotage it hadn’t been enough. The three of us ran upstairs, and opened the door to the balcony Vakarian was using as a sniper’s nest -- just in time to watch a rocket take the turian full in the chest.


	11. Chapter Ten

_The Normandy SR2_

 

The gunship had gone down. Shepard had seen to that. After that, things had gotten...complicated.

Vakarian was alive. That was important. Alive, but in danger. An application of medi-gel by Shepard had stabilized him, but only temporarily. She made the call to stand guard over the turian while Jacob and I went for one of the mercs’ sky cars. A simple enough endeavor, really. There were some mercs left, but not many -- not enough to prove a challenge to two Cerberus operatives, at least. We made quick work of them on our way back to the skycar, but it wasn’t good work. Their comrades had died fighting, at least. Most of these mercs were running away. Once we’d gotten the skycar to the apartment, it was tricky to maneuver the injured turian in without making his injuries worse, and even so, we had to apply more medi-gel to keep him stable. Fortunately, things had improved when we got to the Normandy’s dock -- Shepard had radioed ahead, and they met us with a stretcher at the airlock. From there, they’d taken Vakarian to the med bay. The rest of us were waiting in the conference room -- not by any order of Shepard’s, but because she was there, waiting. Jacob sat by her, speaking to her. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could guess. He was a soldier, like her. He knew how to deal with this. I didn’t.

A few hours later, the doors opened, and Vakarian entered the room. Dr. Chakwas stood in the hall, but it seemed the turian didn’t need assistance. Frankly, I was impressed. The turian’s armor seemed to have taken most of the hit. Some damage had been done to his face, but Chakwas had applied a patch to hold it together and aid healing.

“Tough son of a bitch. Didn’t think you’d be up yet.” Vakarian nodded in acknowledgment.

“No one would give me a mirror. How bad is it?”

“Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some facepaint on there and no one will even notice.” Garrus started to laugh, then winced noticeably.

“Don’t make me laugh, Shepard, my face is barely holding together as it is.” He paused. “Some women do find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are krogan.” He then eyed Jacob and me carefully. “Frankly, I’m more worried about you, Shepard. Cerberus? Do you remember those freakish experiments?”

“That’s why I’m glad you’re here, Garrus. If I’m walking into hell, I want someone I trust at my side.”

“You realize that this plan has me walking into hell too, right?” The turian grinned. “Just like old times. I’m fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard. I’ll settle in and see what I can do with the forward batteries.” Vakarian left. I waited a few seconds, then followed, catching Dr. Chakwas before she could get to the elevator.

“Is what he says true? Did you clear him for active duty?”

“There was no reason not to, Ms. Lawson.”

“He took a rocket to the chest!”

“His armor absorbed most of it. In fact, most of the damage to his chest was just blunt force trauma. The real danger was the damage to his face, but on-site application of medi-gel stabilized that, and with that patch holding it together, he should be fine. Unless he attempts to stop any more rockets with his face, but then, he has about as much chance of surviving that as any of you. At most, I’d suggest he needs a good night’s sleep before he goes on any missions with Shepard, but I know Garrus, and he’d just ignore me anyway.” Chakwas looked me over. “At the moment, I’m more concerned about you. When was the last time you slept, Ms. Lawson?”

“The trip to Omega.” I moved to pass her, headed for the armory. The design of this deck was asinine. I’d have include that in my next message to the Illusive Man. Chakwas placed her hand on my arm.

“Ms. Lawson, that was six hours, and you’d been awake for two days before that. Shepard and Jacob both took stims before this mission, and that was only because Shepard insisted on not waiting.” _Good thing she did, too, or we’d have missed Vakarian._ “I’d suggest you get some sleep.”

I glared at the doctor, but she had a point. I was tired. I’d almost fallen asleep a few times while we’d been waiting on the turian. Fine. I would sleep now, and file my report later. What was the worst that could happen? Shepard couldn’t leave the ship without me being notified. I’d risk it.

 

\---

 

I didn’t remember much of the walk back to my quarters. I didn’t even remember changing out of my uniform, but apparently I’d done so. I awoke in loose fitting pajamas with my terminal blaring to signal that I had an incoming call. I checked the clock on the terminal as I approached -- it’d been eleven hours. I hadn’t realized I was that tired. I quickly ran my fingers through my hair to make it presentable, then hit the button to accept that call. “Lawson.”

“Miranda, suit up. We’re going after Dr. Solus. Be ready in twenty minutes.” Shepard sounded tense. That couldn’t be good.

“Acknowledged.”

“Be sure you’re well armed, Miranda. Omega’s on lockdown.”


	12. Chapter Eleven

_Omega_

 

The news of the lockdown, it turned out, had been blown somewhat out of proportion. Lack of a centralized information delivery system does that to a station. The lockdown only was only in place on the Gozu District, which was apparently currently afflicted by a plague that killed everything except humans and vorcha. It seemed likely that the vorcha surviving was an accident -- likely they ability to adapt to hostile environments saved them. That added another wrinkle to the mission -- in addition to whatever mercs called the Gozu District home (intel suggested it was currently disputed in a gang war between the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack), there’d be vorcha all over the place. And of course, the mission had to take place there. Dr. Solus had set up a clinic in that district before the outbreak.

Nothing ever went smoothly.

“A quarantine zone for a plague that kills turians. Why don’t we ever go anywhere nice?” Shepard had wanted to bring Vakarian along. God knows why. The turian had a point -- he was susceptible to this plague. Jacob wasn’t, but he’d been left on the Normandy all the same. Worse, we didn’t know enough about this plague to know how much danger Vakarian was in by being here. The plague had started too recently -- only a few days ago, though the lockdown was new. And the plague was airborne.

Everything about this plague screamed “synthetic.” But who would make a plague like this? Currently, and unfortunately, some on Omega suspected that it was humans. More specifically, some of them suspected Cerberus. That was foolish. The sheer stupidity of it made me want to burst out laughing when it had first been suggested to us. Even if Cerberus had the resources and technology to make such a plague, why release it here? Sure, Omega was an important crossroads, as far as the Terminus Systems went, but given the nature of the Terminus systems, that wasn’t saying much. Plenty of pirates and mercenaries avoided Omega because of Aria T’Loak. Cerberus had several more important targets. This didn’t even work well as a test area -- too big, too many variables to be accounted for. I’d worked with the Illusive Man long enough to get a feel for how he operated, and nothing about this felt like his style.

“This mission’s important. I need someone I can trust watching my back.” Shepard didn’t stop walking, didn’t turn back to look at me, but the implication was clear. I pretended not to notice as Vakarian turned his head toward me.

“Of course, Shepard. Don’t worry, I won’t let a cough slow me down.” Well, that’s what he thought. Frankly, if he started to show symptoms, I planned to put him down myself.

The guards at the security checkpoint -- all human here, though the one outside the quarantine zone had been a turian -- muttered at us as we passed. Apparently, they thought the same thing I did -- that bringing the turian was foolish. Still, he trusted Shepard enough to come along for this, even knowing the risks. There was something to that. Shepard’s files all called her a great leader, but this went beyond leadership. Leadership was being able to command men on a battlefield. This was something more.

Making our way through the district was tedious. The Blue Suns had been in control of it, apparently, but most of their forces here were turians. The few human members left were fighting with the Blood Pack for control of the area, and since the Blood Pack weren’t above recruiting vorcha and could thus flood the district with them, they were winning. We’d encountered our fair share of the vermin. They’d taken us for looters, and had attacked. Last mistake they ever made.

When we finally made it to the clinic, we were met immediately by the sight of several Blue Suns mercenaries. Or rather, their corpses. They’d all be killed professionally and cleanly: two to the chest, one to the head. And then left out here on display. There were some LOKI mechs around, but they weren’t that accurate. This had been done by an organic.

“I’d heard rumors about this.” Vakarian said suddenly. “Apparently, the Blue Suns came here, demanding protection money. They say Solus did this himself.” That was chilling. I’d heard that Solus had been with STG, but I’d thought he’d been a scientist. Could he have trained as a commando, too? That...if that was the case, then he’d be a formidable ally. We continued inside, holstering our weapons as we did. It wasn’t an order from Shepard. More of a vibe this place sent out. Sure, we could probably take this clinic by force, but Dr. Solus would make us work for it. Inside, Shepard approached the lone salarian in the place. He was well into helping a patient, and seemed to be missing the horn on the right side of his head.

“Dr. Mordin Solus?” The salarian paused, waved his omnitool in front of Shepard, then began to speak.

“Hmm. Don’t recognize you from area. Too well armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniforms. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else? Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha symptom, not cause.  The plague? Investigating possible use as bio-weapon? No. Too many guns, not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists. Hired guns, maybe? Looking for someone? Yes! But who? Someone important. Valuable. Someone with secrets. Someone like me. Me. Looking for me. But why? Who are you? What do you want?” It didn’t seem like the salarian had breathed at all during that. Now he just stared us down coolly. It was actually quite terrifying -- it was a look that suggested he might kill us if he didn’t like our answer.

“I’m Commander Shepard, and I’m involved in a critical mission. I need you to come with me.”

“What mission? No. No no no. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?” Even from behind her, I could see Shepard squirm. Outright saying Cerberus was probably a bad idea, given the current sentiment in Omega. On the other hand, lying wasn’t likely to persuade the salarian.

“It’s...a covert, and privately funded human group.” That earned us another cool look.

“Related to plague? Doesn’t affect humans. Human-centric interest. Few human groups know of me.” Another look, this time sweeping all three of us. “Equipment suggests military origin. Not Alliance standard. Spectres not human. Terra Firma too unstable. Only one option.” Before any of us could react, Solus had a gun levelled at Shepard’s head. “Cerberus.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

_Omega_

 

There was a kind of emptiness to Solus’s eyes as he aimed the gun at Shepard’s head. It wasn’t that cold, deadened look that so-called hardened killers had. That was the look of men who wanted to act like killing you wouldn’t be a major change in their day. This look was more dispassionate, almost tired. Seeing it, I had no trouble believing that not only would Mordin kill us without a second thought if he had to, but that it also truly wouldn’t shake him at all.

I’m not sure how Shepard did it, staring him down like that. I was a good ten feet, and I could feel myself shaking. But Shepard just stood there, coolly looking back at the salarian like there wasn’t a gun less than a foot from her head.

“Cerberus might not have the best reputation, but we need your help.” Curiosity flickered across the salarian’s face, but the gun didn’t waver.

“Why request salarian aid?”

“The Collectors are abducting entire human populations. We’re going to find out why. And stop them.” That got the gun lowered. And holstered. Solus put one hand to his chin and gave Shepard yet another once over.

“Collectors? Interesting. Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar.” Another look came into his eyes. It was one I recognized -- the look of someone who’s found a challenge worthy of their skills. I knew it well. I’d seen it in the mirror after the Illusive Man had assigned me to the Lazarus Project. “But must stop plague first. Already have cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them.”

“I’ll go in and deal with the vorcha.” On another day, I might find myself frustrated with Shepard’s volunteering us for some inane task. In this case, though, I had to admit she had a point: Solus clearly didn’t trust Cerberus. Doing this for him probably wouldn’t remedy that, but it would at least make him more pliable.

Of course, no sooner had Shepard spoken than the vents let out a sputtering sound. Solus frowned.

“Vorcha have shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Need to get power back on before district suffocates. Here, take plague cure. Also, bonus in good faith. Weapon from dead Blue Suns merc. Might come in handy against the vorcha.” Solus handed Shepard a vial, then the pistol he’d been pointing at her a moment ago.

“Anything I should know about the vorcha before I head out?”

“Cowardly, opportunistic scavengers. Not tactical or aggressive. Scale of attack unusual for them.” Mordin inclined his head. “Suspect vorcha working for collectors. Distributing plague, collecting evidence. No proof, but theory fits evidence.” Theory fits evidence? He must have suspected the Collectors before we arrived. Shepard just nodded.

“Let’s head to the environmental plant.”

 

\---

 

The vorcha were out in force. I suppose they expected it to be a show of strength, but really, it just came across as a display of idiocy. With the life support systems down, Shepard, Vakarian, and I had switched to the emergency life support in our suits. The vorcha had no such systems, and more than once we came across vorcha that had suffocated as a result of their own actions. That several vorcha had decided using flamethrowers was a good idea probably had something to do with that. We’d avoided more than one fight so far by simply staying in cover as a vorcha assaulted us with a flamethrower and waiting until it burned the oxygen out of the room. The vorcha could adapt to almost anything, but few could adapt that quickly. Those that were able to adapt were left gasping, and were finished off with a round to the head. No vorcha could adapt to that.

Of course, the bigger problem was that the vorcha weren’t acting alone. Apparently, this was the masterstroke of the Blood Pack’s plan to take this district from the Blue Suns. The gang war continued in full force, with the Blood Pack now even more firmly on the offensive. They were now fielding their krogan -- all wearing full hardsuits with life support. And the suicidal tactic that the vorcha kept using against us was deadly to the Blue Suns mercs who were caught without helmets. Trap them in a room with a few vorcha, set the vorcha to burning, and by the time the Blue Suns mercs could get their helmets up, it was too late. And the Blood Pack had no qualms about using the vorcha like this -- after all, they bred like rats and had few other prospects. Once all this was over, no matter how it ended, the Blood Pack would go on a “recruiting drive” through Omega’s slums, pressing any vorcha they found into service, and almost certainly replenishing their numbers by the end of the day. Fortunately, we found ourselves in the gangs’ crossfire less often. Unfortunately, that was mostly because we were in Blood Pack territory, and they were only too happy to engage us on their way to the “real” fighting.

One such group caught us right outside the doors to the environmental control center. It wasn’t a particularly dangerous group -- only a few vorcha -- but it was a waste of our time. All of this was. Why were we bothering to help Solus? Either he was coming with us, or he wasn’t. He was clearly interested -- we should have just taken him then. Helping these people -- even the humans -- was outside of our mission, and outside of Cerberus’s goals.

A shot whizzed by my head, missing me but still close enough that I could feel the heat as it passed. I spun to face the vorcha who’d fired at me. I didn’t really think about what I was doing, I simply acted. Using my biotics, I lifted the vorcha into the air, then immediately slammed it into the ground. I could hear it’s bones shattering from where I stood. A few seconds later, I realized Shepard and Vakarian were staring at me. Apparently, that had been the last enemy in the room, and that was certainly a new use of my biotics. I’d have to look into that, see if I could replicate it in the future. For now, I simply shrugged, and headed into the environmental control center.

The control center was a large room -- it had to be, with the giant fans in it. At the far end were some vorcha, speaking to hologram with an unmistakable profile. A Collector. The Collector let out a screech when it saw us, and the hologram went dead. One of the vorcha rounded on us.

“You no come here! We shut down machines, break fans! Everyone choke and die! Then the Collectors make us strong!” The vorcha was holding a flamethrower, but wasn’t pointing it at us. Perhaps we’d finally met one with a brain.

“What do the Collectors want?” Shepard kept her gun pointed at the vorcha, but asked the question all the same.

“Collectors want plague! You work for doctor, fix machines, put cure in air! We kill you first!” The vorcha raised the flamethrower. Shepard put a sniper round into the thing’s fuel tanks before the vorcha could bring it to bear, and it exploded, taking out the vorcha around it, too.

“Nice shot.” Vakarian said. Shepard just shrugged.

“Let’s get that cure in there and get moving.”

The machine that controlled the environmental controls was old, from the days the station was still an operable mine. As such, it had a feature built in for the quick distribution of aerosols, like the cure. At the time, it had probably been used to keep costs down, just blanketing a district with cures and vaccines rather than actually treating things. Still, it was fortunate for us. Even better, the vorcha had only managed to shut down the fans, not actually destroy them. It took only a few minutes to reactivate them, and thankfully, we were able to do it from the center console rather than manually restarting them. With that done, we made our way back to the salarian’s clinic. He had some business to wrap up but said he’d meet us back at the _Normandy_.

Finally, some progress.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_Omega_

 

One last stop, then we could leave this godforsaken station. As luck would have it, that stop happened to be near the Normandy’s dock. A beaten and bloody batarian leaned against the wall, while a man in armor stood over him, his back to us.

“Please, help me.” The batarian spoke as soon as he could steady himself enough to make eye contact with Shepard. She seemed visibly uncomfortable at the man’s treatment of the batarian, despite her history with them. I frowned.

“Who said you could talk, jackass?” The man kicked the batarian in the stomach. Hard. I noted the batarian was coughing up blood. Perhaps Shepard had a point to be alarmed.

“You Zaeed Massani?” There was an edge of caution to Shepard’s voice, and I noted that her hand was very near to her sidearm. I followed her lead. I’d heard stories about Massani, and while they weren’t quite in the same league as those I heard about Shepard, they were close. My money was on Shepard, if it came down to it, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Yeah. You must be Commander Shepard. I hear we have a galaxy to save.” Massani turned toward us. It took a lot of self control not to flinch away. The man’s face was...well, hideous. The right half was burned severely, and that eye was dead. I’d have to look into his file more later.

“I assume you’ve been briefed?” Massani hadn’t made any threatening movements, but Shepard didn’t relax.

“I’ve done my homework. Cerberus sent me everything I needed to know.” He gave Shepard a once over, then turned his gaze to myself and Vakarian. Even his gaze felt threatening, like he was sizing us up for a fight. Then his eyes snapped toward mine. “This mission doesn’t sound like good business, but your Illusive Man can move a lot of credits.” He actually sounded impressed.

“Good to have you aboard, Zaeed.” Shepard offered her hand. Brave of her, but Massani ignored it.

“I assume the Illusive Man told you about our arrangement?” Arrangement? What arrangement?

“No. I guess he decided to leave that information out of the dossier.” Shepard shot me a look. I shrugged, hoping that would convey that I was as clueless as she was.

“Good thing I asked. Picked up a mission just before I joined on with Cerberus. Vido Santiago, head of the Blue Suns, captured an Eldfell-Ashland refinery on Zorya. Using the workers as slave labor. The company wants it dealt with.” I didn’t quite trust how he said that, but Shepard nodded. “Good.” He heaved the batarian over his shoulder. “Just let me deal with this garbage, and I’ll meet you on your ship.”


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_The Normandy SR2_

 

The _Normandy_ sat in orbit around the planet Korlus. According to the Illusive Man’s intel, this was where we’d find Okeer, the krogan warlord turned scientist.

Or rather, this was where Shepard would find him. I wasn’t part of the away team.

I was letting this bother me more than it should have. What Shepard did...yes, I was combat trained, and had certainly been holding my own out there, but it wasn’t by any means my specialty. But dammit, I never thought I’d miss it. Being on missions -- being with Shepard -- was exhilarating. In comparison, doing the duties I’d actually been assigned was maddeningly dull.

A knock on the door got my hopes up. The amount of time that had passed meant it wouldn’t be unreasonable for Shepard to have decided she didn’t want either Vakarian or Massani with her on the mission and come back for me. Unfortunately, it was just the salarian. I tried not to let my disappointment show.

“Found this in lab. Found others, too. Destroyed them. This one expensive. Thought you might like it back.” Solus held out his hand, and when I put mine out, dropped something into it. It took me a second to recognize it as one of the listening devices we’d put in the lab. I wondered how many of the ones in the lab Solus had actually found. Hell, I wondered how many were actually in the lab. I’d known of fourteen, but I was certain there would have been more. The Illusive Man had overseen the construction of the _Normandy_ rather more closely than most other projects, and that almost certainly meant he’d played things very close to the chest. I wouldn’t be surprised to find bugs in parts of the ship that couldn’t normally be accessed. I wouldn’t even be surprised to find them in my own quarters. The Illusive Man was nothing if not thorough. I raised my eyes to Solus, noticing only then that he was still talking. “...to stop Collectors. Noble goal. Not in this for Cerberus. Won’t let them profit from my work.” With that, Solus turned to leave.

I immediately went to my computer, and checked the feeds from the lab. Two remained. Both were audio only, and they were placed in such a way that a few blind spots existed in the labs, but that wasn’t a huge concern. Presumably, he’d keep his destructive activities restricted to the lab, and leave all the other listening devices intact.

That taken care of, there was nothing left to do but force myself to do the more boring aspects of my job.

The reports on our excursions on Omega had been filed, and they’d been brief. Archangel turning out to be Garrus Vakarian was likely a blessing: Shepard having someone she trusted on the team would likely make her more willing to carry out this mission. And Solus’s scientific capabilities were nothing to scoff at -- he’d manufactured a cure to a Collector made virus in a matter of days, with nothing but the supplies available to him in a quarantined district of Omega, and he’d made the cure distributable as an aerosol. I had no doubt that the salarian would be able to develop a countermeasure against the seeker swarms. Massani, though…

I’d done some further reading on Massani on the way to Korlus. Frankly, what I’d found unnerved me. Massani’s history -- what of it I was able to find, anyway -- was a violent mess. He had a stunning record of successful missions, but it didn’t escape me that anytime he had a team on his mission, he was the only one to come back. In some cases, this was explained. In others, it wasn’t. I didn’t want to make my judgement prematurely -- perhaps Massani wasn’t the type to shoot his colleagues in the back so that he wouldn’t have to share his winnings -- but the evidence was there. I’d be on my guard around him, and I’d advise Shepard to do the same. I’d put too much into her to let some gloryhound merc take it all away. Perhaps I’d even bring it up with the Illusive Man -- but not on suspicion alone. I’d wait until he actually did something worth reporting. I suspected I wouldn’t have to wait long.

Onto Shepard’s emails. It was a tedious task -- sorting through the extranet spam in my own inbox was enough of a hassle, let alone going through on belonging to someone who’d been dead for two years -- but it wasn’t one I could just pawn off on a subordinate. The Illusive Man had given the order himself. Aside from myself and possibly Jacob, the _Normandy_ was crewed by Cerberus members on the less extreme end of the spectrum. People Shepard could sympathize with. People she could befriend. Any of them, therefore, would be susceptible to not adequately screening the emails because of that friendship. That possibility didn’t concern me.

Most of them were, as predicted, not worth the effort to screen. Either they were deemed spam -- a problem Shepard dealt with on a much more extreme level than I did. My extranet contact info wasn’t something I kept secret -- I didn’t have to, as I personally couldn’t be tied to any of Cerberus’s illegal activities, and I had several dummy accounts that couldn’t be traced back to me for when my involvement was absolutely necessary -- but Shepard’s was just a standard Alliance Military account. In the weeks she’d been awake, I’d had a program scrub all the spam files, and it had taken nearly the whole week to do it, and even then it had missed some.

One email in particular, however, caught my eye. An email apparently from David Anderson. It took me a few minutes to verify that this was actually sent from his email address, but it was genuine. He wanted Shepard to come to the Citadel, and it mentioned a reinstating of her Spectre status. That was quite the opportunity. I’d have to persuade Shepard that it was in her best interests to do this before continuing the mission. It probably wouldn’t be that hard. After all, she’d probably want to see how the man she’d made Councilor was faring.

That wrapped up my duties. All that was left to do now was sit and wait to debrief Shepard on her return.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_The Normandy SR2_

“You brought aboard a krogan?” I gaped at Shepard. Literally. My mouth was actually hanging open.

“Wasn’t that the mission?” Shepard seemed unconcerned. But this worried me. I’d read Shepard’s file. I knew every detail, every quirk. Thus far, her actions, even the ones I’d disagreed with, had been well within the confines of that file. In fact, I’d predicted every choice she’d make correctly. This one, though, I hadn’t predicted. Had something gone wrong in the resurrection process? Had there been some misfiring in Shepard’s brain, some damage I hadn’t fixed that had caused her to react in a way that was unpredictable?

Lack of information. That was it. I hadn’t been able to predict Shepard’s actions here because I hadn’t had an adequate measure of what she’d encounter on the planet. I’d have to include a note about that in my next report. Perhaps the Illusive Man could help with that.

“The mission was for Warlord Okeer. That,” I gestured at the tank the crewmen were unloading from the shuttle, “is not Warlord Okeer. We don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a krogan.” Shepard spoke in the slow manner you’d use to explain something to a child, but smiled as she did it. That didn’t do much to alleviate the sting.

“I can see that, Commander.”

“Urdnot Wrex fought alongside me when I stopped Saren.” I opened my mouth to point out that this wasn’t Urdnot Wrex, but Shepard had already turned away from me. “EDI! Where do we have room on the ship for this?” Now that was something. Hadn’t Shepard hated the idea of an AI on “her” ship only a few days ago?

“There is space in the port cargo hold, Commander.” Shepard merely nodded, and the crewmen moved to comply. I contemplated ordering them off -- after all, this was still a Cerberus ship, and I was still the ranking Cerberus officer -- but decided against it. That would just be seen as petty, and would do nothing but cause animosity between Shepard and Cerberus, and more specifically, me. Writing this off as a loss, I left the hanger, and headed toward my quarters.

 

\---

 

I watched Shepard engage the krogan via the observation devices planted in the cargo hold. Though I was grateful they were there, it struck me as somewhat excessive. I’d actually done a full check of the ship earlier. I’d found bugs in places where people couldn’t regularly access. I knew the Illusive Man wasn’t one to do things in half-measures, but this was a bit beyond that. And if I was being honest, I found it a bit offensive. It suggested that the Illusive Man didn’t trust me enough to operate unobserved. It prompted further questions, too: how many bugs didn’t I know about? And what about the crew? I’d given their files a onceover, but nothing in-depth. I’d have to fix that. The last thing I wanted was someone on this ship reporting on me to the Illusive Man.

I turned my attention back to the camera just in time to watch the krogan slam Shepard into a wall, one its large arms pressed against her throat. I’d put some tech into her body when I’d rebuilt her -- I’d had to -- but nothing that could stop a krogan. If Shepard guessed wrong here, this would end badly. I considered giving EDI the order to vent the cargo hold. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was workable -- we were still in orbit of Korlus, so we could have the shuttle launched in under a minute. It’s be tight, but we could probably get there before Shepard died again. The krogan was an acceptable loss.

And then the krogan backed down, and shifting enough to reveal that Shepard had been holding a gun on it the entire time. Clearly, I would need to have more faith in her in the future.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

_The Normandy SR-2_

 

The prison ship Purgatory hung in space, looking like nothing so much as a giant, malformed centipede, the person described in our next dossier aboard it. “Subject Zero.” There wasn’t much information in the file, but it was the means of the absence that concerned me. Much of what was missing was redacted by Cerberus. There wasn’t much that I didn’t have the clearance to view. And while I trusted the Illusive Man to alert me to any and all information I needed to know as I needed to know it, it was odd that something seemingly so closely tied to our mission would be kept from me. What was Subject Zero’s relationship to Cerberus?

Then again, it could be completely meaningless. Either way, it wasn’t worth dwelling on.

The more pressing issue was Purgatory itself.

Surprisingly, Massani had quite a lot of information about the ship and how it was run. The half obscured blue sun tattoo on his arm hadn’t gone unnoticed, but I’d figured he’d run with the mercs for a while, got bored, and left. This information suggested a deeply personal knowledge of the ship. More than an ordinary merc would know. I’d have to look into it later; for now, the information he was giving us was too useful to question how or why he knew it.

The leg-like structures were apparently cell blocks. Each was functionally independent, with their own redundancies in life support and propulsion. Access between them was largely restricted. Cerberus spies had been able to pinpoint precisely where Subject Zero was being kept, so at least we could verify we weren’t being duped.

Massani was able to provide even more useful information: the fact that the station wasn’t armed, and most useful of all, the likely loadouts of any mercs we encountered onboard, should it come to a fight. Yes, how he had all this info was definitely worth looking into.

If this were where it stopped, things would have been great. The intel was incredible, and what of it I was able to check on my omnitool during the breifing seemed to check out with the intel Cerberus had. But this wasn’t enough for Massani.

“I’m coming along.” Massani didn’t say the words so much as he growled them. His profile had mentioned anger issues, but not their depth. Then again, it wasn’t the only thing the dossier hadn’t mentioned.

Everyone was watching Shepard. This was a direct challenge to her authority, the first one she’d really faced. We were all holding our breaths, waiting to see how she’d play it. Lose face here, this early in the mission, and she might never get it back.

Shepard met Massani’s gaze calmly. “That was the plan anyway. Your knowledge of the station will come in handy.” That seemed to placate the mercenary. I wasn’t sure that was enough. “Grunt, you’re coming too.” Grunt? Oh, the krogan. I’d forgotten that he’d taken that name. “Gear up and come to the airlock. Miranda, you have the ship.”


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_The Normandy SR-2_

 

Shepard being away left me with more waiting. I hated waiting. I hated waiting even more when I suspected that the project I’d invested so much time in was going to be ruined because Shepard had gone aboard a potentially hostile station with an unstable mercenary and an untested krogan. I may have resolved myself to have more faith in Shepard, but this was pushing it. I’d tried to convince her that this was a bad idea -- that she should take along Jacob or myself, or barring that, at least take Vakarian -- but it hadn’t worked. She’d made up her mind, and I had no choice but to go along with that.

I took the time to file a report with the Illusive Man. Strictly speaking, he hadn’t given me any specific orders about how often he wanted them, but now seemed like a good time, given the deviances the mission on Korlus had taken.

 

_OUTGOING_

_OPERATIVE LAWSON_

_The mission is proceeding as planned and on schedule. Or at least as close to schedule as any mission of this nature can. Dr. Solus has been brought aboard and assures us that he will have a countermeasure for the seeker swarms prepared within two standard days. The main problem with this is the one we have already discussed: we have no real way of testing the effectiveness of the countermeasure without actually having seeker swarms present. In light of this, I suggest that once we have a countermeasure, we first send a strike team equipped with it into a Collector  targeted colony to test it out. A live field test with Shepard is simply too risky._

_The Korlus mission did not go as planned. Due to interference from the Blue Suns mercenary company, we were unable to extract Okeer. Instead, at Okeer’s apparent insistence, we took aboard a krogan he’d bred in a tank. Shepard took the iniative to decant this krogan, which now goes by the name “Grunt.”_

_While I was unable to get a complete copy, I have been analyzing what information we were able to copy from Warlord Okeer’s computer. The information is fragmented and rather heavily encrypted, but what I’ve been able to decypher confirms that Okeer was in contact with the Collectors at some point, and that  Collector technology was used in the growing of his tank bred “son.” However, the full extent of Okeer’s dealings with the Collectors is impossible to determine from  the fragmented information I have. I would suggest sending a team to Korlus as soon as possible to recover the rest of Okeer’s records. He may have had information on the Collectors that could prove useful to the mission._

 

I paused my typing. Strictly speaking, the report was done. I had my concerns about Massani, yes, but the Illusive Man was taking an extremely proactive approach to this mission, more than I’d ever seen him take before. He must have read the dossier I had on Massani, and had almost certainly had access to even more information on the man. If he thought Massani was worthwhile for this mission, who was I to question that?

Still, my mandate on this mission was to observe and report any and all problems. And this certainly had the makings of a problem.

 

_There is one factor to this mission that could prove problematic: Zaeed Massani. The dossier I was provided with for the man was rather vague, and seems to have been outright lacking in much information. Example: his apparently rather personal knowledge of the inner workings of the Blue Suns. Furthermore, his dossier suggests that he is impulsive and bad at taking orders. Respectfully, sir, I believe you should reconsider having him on this mission._

  
I stared at the last paragraph for a moment, and considered deleting it. I didn’t, instead choosing to hit send. Let the Illusive Man make of that what he would.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_The Normandy SR-2_

 

Within seconds of the report being sent, my comm pinged. I sighed. I’d been hoping to perhaps get some rest. I was still running on fumes.

“What?”

“Miranda, uh, Operative Lawson? Message coming through from the station. They want to speak to the _Normandy_ ’s commander.” Mr. Moreau’s voice came through the comm, carrying none of it’s usual snark. That set off warning bells. So did the fact that Purgatory was contacting us.

“Patch it through.” It took a second for the connection to come through, but when it did, I found myself facing an unfamiliar turian.

“This is Warden Kuril of the _Purgatory_. We have captured Commander Shepard, and have a lock on your ship. You have five minutes to depart before we open fire.” With that, communications cut off.

Well, at least he was direct.

Five minutes wasn’t much time. A quick check of the ship’s sensors confirmed that there was, in fact, a weapons’ lock on the ship. That wasn’t good. Hadn’t Massani sworn there were no weapons on board? If he survived this mission, I’d skin him for this. I punched up a commlink to the helm.

“Mr. Moreau, sensors are reporting that the station has a lock on us.”

“Yeah, I see it.”

“Can you take care of it without moving the ship? We need this dock.” I heard a small laugh from the other end of the comm.

“Got it.” The connection cut off. Were the situation less urgent, I’d have lectured Mr. Moreau on proper etiquette when addressing superiors, but I didn’t have the time. Instead, I punched up a ship-wide announcement.

“Garrus Vakarian and Operative Taylor, gather your gear and report to the airlock.”

 

\---

 

Vakarian and Jacob were waiting in the airlock when I arrived. Not unexpected, really. I’d had to hold back to send a priority message to the Illusive Man, informing him of the Blue Suns’ treachery.  A muffled explosion and slight rocking of the ship as I arrived told me that Mr. Moreau had taken care of the station’s weapons. Good. One less problem I had to deal with.

“The Blue Suns have declared war on Cerberus. They claim to have taken Shepard captive, and until just a few seconds ago, had a weapons’ lock on the ship.” Neither man moved much as I spoke. I didn’t find this shocking. They were both soldiers. The were used to dealing with this sort of thing. I called up a display on my omni-tool. “Shepard’s distress beacon hasn’t gone off, so we know she’s still alive. And tracking data on her armor shows she’s moving through the station, back towards the _Normandy_. Unfortunately, I have no such data on Massani or Grunt.” I hadn’t had time to install a beacon in the krogan’s armor, not expecting Shepard to take him on missions yet, and Massani had refused it. “Our job is simple -- to defend this dock and make sure Shepard has a path back to the ship. Jacob, you and I will head out, find and hold the nearest defensible position. Vakarian, you hang back and provide cover fire with your rifle.” The turian’s face was hard to read, but he nodded.

“Any word from Shepard?” He asked in that oddly reverberating voice. I shook my head.

“I have my omnitool trying to contact hers, but it’s being jammed.” We didn’t have enough combat trained crewmen to reasonably attempt to find a comm station and stop the jamming. “Look, it’s Shepard. We’ve fought the Blue Suns before. They aren’t anything special.” Vakarian just kept looking at me with that unreadable turian face. He knew what Shepard was capable of. He’d been with her before. So why had I said it? Was I trying to convince him? Or myself?

No time for worrying. Shepard was trained for this. She could take care of herself. All we could do was defend this location.

Before the hatch opened, I grabbed the other reason I’d been the last one to the airlock: grenade launchers. Handing one to Jacob, I took the other, and aimed it at the door. He followed suit. “Sensors show a Blue Suns squadron waiting outside. Vakarian, on my command, open the hatch. Then we fire.” Jacob shot me a look. I could read a lot from that look. “Even at this range, damage to the ship will be minimal. We can’t lose this dock.” So long as the Normandy was here, they couldn’t shut this dock against us. This was Shepard’s only way off the station. We had to hold it for her.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

_The Purgatory_

 

True to form, Jacob fired as soon as the hatch was open enough to do so. I held off, waiting to fire mine until the mercenaries had scrambled behind cover, and aiming mine so that the arc would bring it down behind them. And, given that they were so keen on avoiding the blast from Jacob’s grenade, they didn’t even notice mine.

I started running once I’d heard the second explosion, and took cover on the opposite side of the barrier the Blue Suns had just attempted to use. I’d left the grenade launcher in the airlock -- sure, it had four more shots, but it was heavy and unwieldy. Besides, worse case scenario, Vakarian could use it to blast a path for Shepard.

But I wasn’t about to let it come to that.

Jacob came up beside me, kneeling next to me behind the barricade. He’d brought his grenade launcher with him. Ever the soldier. That could work to our advantage: about five meters past the barricade, the hallway opened up some, and while there wasn’t much cover, there were some side passages. That meant we’d be holding here, but we had a natural killzone if anyone came at us. And, tracking data from the _Normandy_ showed that if Shepard continued on her current path, she’d come out at the far end of the hallway. Then, all we’d have to do would be provide cover fire for her to make it down to us. Easy enough.

I’d spoken too soon.

A small army of Blue Suns mercs began to pour out of the side passages. Some took up positions guarding the door opposite us, but most started to advance on our position. The odds weren’t with us -- sure, we had a choke point that they’d have to approach to get at us, but they had numbers. Even if we could get ammo from the _Normandy_ , we’d eventually be overwhelmed by numbers alone. We just had to hope Shepard got here before then.

As the battle drew on, I found myself becoming less and less hopeful on that front. Blue Suns was throwing grunts at us -- cheap armor, cheap weapons, the works -- but they didn’t need to be doing any more than that. As I’d predicted, it was coming down to numbers: we were running out of ammo, and there were simply too many of them firing at us to make scavenging thermal clips from the dead a reasonable endeavor.

Then, a blue flash illuminated the hallway. It was one I recognized. A biotic explosion. Then there was another flash, and another.

“Shepard?” Jacob asked. I shook my head. Shepard hadn’t taken any biotics with her. This was someone else. Which just begged the question of why they were fighting the Blue Suns.

Soon, enough of the Blue Suns had been taken down that I could get a clear look at the source. It was a human, female by the looks of it but hard to tell at this distance. She wasn’t wearing much, just a leather strap in an almost parody of an attempt at preservation of modesty. The rest of her was covered in tattoos. She kept fighting, putting on an impressive biotics display, taking out mercs left and right. Then she took down the last one, using a biotic punch strong enough to shatter his helmet and his skull.

For minute, it seemed like this might end well. Then she turned toward a viewport and began to freak out yet again.

“Cerberus!” The scream confirmed it. Female. There was a lot of rage in that voice. I saw the telltale blue glow of her biotics flare up again, and watched as she flung corpses against the viewport. Who was this? Had the Blue Suns gotten desperate enough to release some kind of biotic super soldier with a grudge against Cerberus? How much damage could Shepard have done?

As if on cue, there was Shepard, emerging from the door at the far end. Grunt and Massani were with her, both still unharmed. Both trained their guns on the biotic as she turned toward Shepard, still glowing. But Shepard merely raised her open hands. There was talking -- I couldn’t hear it, but I could tell the biotic was shouting. After a few minutes of this, the four of them began to walk towards us. Shepard made up the rear. My confusion must have shown as she drew near. “Subject Zero,” she explained, then continued toward the ship.


	21. Chapter Twenty

_The Normandy SR-2_

 

“When do I get access to the Cerberus files?” Subject Zero, or Jack, as she called herself, glared at Shepard. I was fairly certain she was making a point of not looking at me.

“You don’t.” That got her to look at me. She spun on me, a biotic glow forming around her hands. I called up my own in response. I’d seen what Jack could do -- had done, to a soldier in full armor. I wasn’t about to let that happen to me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob unholster his pistol.

“That’s enough.” Shepard stepped between us. I backed down. To my surprise, after a moment, so did Jack. “Jack, we’ll discuss this later.”

“Count on it.” Jack stepped around Shepard. “Move, cheerleader.” I bristled, but stood aside. As she exited, I gave a slight nod to Jacob. He waited another few seconds, then left as well. Shepard probably wouldn’t fall for the deception, but appearances had to be maintained.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her she was welcome to search the ship’s computers for any files she thought were relevant to her search.” With that, she started to leave. As though this was nothing more than a minor disagreement.

“That isn’t your call, Shepard. This may be your ship, and your mission, but you as you’ve pointed out, you aren’t Cerberus. You don’t have the authority to grant access to those files.” That got Shepard to stop. She turned back to me, and met my eyes with a level gaze.

“My mandate from the Illusive Man is to stop the Collectors. Is that correct?” I nodded, unsure where she was going with this. “And he put this ship and it’s crew at my disposal to do that. Is that also correct?” I nodded again. Only then, after I had, did I notice the trap. “Jack is an extremely powerful biotic. More powerful than some asari matriarchs I’ve met. She took down three YMIR mechs alone, without breaking a sweat. I need that on this team, Miranda. And if having her on this team means allowing her access to the files on this ship, I think that more than falls under my authority on this mission.”

 _Damn._ “As you say, commander.”

Shepard’s expression softened, and she put her hand on my shoulder. I considered brushing it off, but decided against it. Being antagonistic towards her accomplished nothing but petty satisfaction, and the Illusive Man would just chastise me for it later anyway. “I understand that you’re just trying to do your job. I’ll see if I can hold Jack off for the time being, give you some time to get approval on what files she can access.” I nodded. The Illusive Man probably wouldn’t like this, but then again, he’d rejected my order for a control chip. “Anything else?”

“Councilor Anderson has requested your presence at the Citadel. Given your status as a former Council Spectre, it might be prudent to --”

“Former Spectre?”

“You died. As I was saying, it’s probably worth it to see what Anderson wants.” Shepard nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, Commander, I need to inform the Illusive Man that we’ve exhausted the dossiers he gave us.”


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

_ The Normandy SR-2 _

 

There was no reply from the Illusive Man waiting when I returned to my office. That wasn’t surprising, really -- the last report had been sent off less than five hours ago. It had probably been read by now -- reports from the  _ Normandy _ were being given top priority status -- but I sent another message, requesting more dossiers and an update on the mission goals all the same. If I was being honest, things were progressing exceptionally well. I’d expected to encounter more hang ups along the way, mostly -- if I was still being honest -- in the form of Shepard objecting. So far, she’d been rather agreeable, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering how long that would last.

Once I’d sent the messages, I noticed that the ship wasn’t moving. That was a surprise. I’d expected Shepard to set a heading for the Citadel right away, given the news I’d given her. I got the answer to that question only moments later, when Shepard paged for the crew to meet in the conference room. I’d read the reports -- when she’d been pursuing Saren, she’d met regularly with her squad. Officially, they were debriefings, but the actual reports showed they’d been something more than that. She’d actually been consulting them. Was she trying to replicate that here? I couldn’t imagine what she hoped to accomplish from that. Half the people we’d recruited seemed unlikely to care, and the rest were followers. Still, I went all the same.

I’d been right. Grunt, Massani, and Subject Zero hadn’t even bothered to show up. Solus had, which was surprising. I took that to be a good sign. Perhaps he’d already devised a countermeasure. That left Vakarian and Jacob. The turian stood by Shepard’s side, while Jacob was lingering the door. Waiting for me. That was troubling. It seemed to cast us as opposites -- Jacob and I, both human, both wearing Cerberus colors on one side, Shepard in the Alliance’s N7 armor with a turian by her side at the other. I might have disagreed with her methods, but I didn’t want us on opposite sides. We still needed her.

Shepard made eye contact with me as I took my seat. It seemed she knew that I was the last to be reasonably expected. “As my next planned step potentially affects us all, I thought it might be prudent to call a meeting, and get some input. As some of you,” a pointed glance in my direction, “are already aware, I got a message from Councilor Anderson, requesting my presence at the Citadel.” There was a sound from Vakarian, presumably an irritated one. “I’m going to take him up on that. We’re going to go to the Citadel, and I’m going to announce myself to the Council and request their aid.”

“Bad idea, Shepard. The Council loves their red tape. Going to them will only end badly.” That was surprising, given who it was coming from. I’d have expected Vakarian to support the idea, given his history with C-SEC.

“Not to mention this is a Cerberus vessel.”  _ Dammit, Jacob _ .

“All the more reason for us to go.” I sighed. “If we go now, while they’re still  _ inviting _ us, we can do this on our terms. Control the situation.” I met Shepard’s gaze. “Humans are disappearing. The Council isn’t doing anything about it, the Alliance isn’t doing anything about it. Shepard is.” A plan started to take shape in my mind. I called up the information from Freedom’s Progress on my omnitool. “It hasn’t made much noise on the extranet yet, but we can change that. We’d have to cross half the galaxy to get to the Citadel. By then, this story would be everywhere. They’d be insane to arrest you.”

“Force their hand. Like you did with Saren.” Something that might have been a smile -- it was hard to tell with a mouth shaped like that -- appeared on Vakarian’s face. I noticed Solus give a slight nod as well. “Clever.”

Shepard’s face remained unreadable. Then she gave the order, and we were enroute to the Citadel.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

_ The Normandy SR-2 _

 

The rest of the meeting was less eventful. Solus hadn’t yet managed an effective deterrent, but claimed he was close. He’d run out of supplies, though. I used my omnitool to put through a request for more seekers, to be delivered to a dead drop on the Citadel. I received a response almost immediately -- confirmation, from the Illusive Man himself, along with another dossier. Kasumi Goto, tagged “Citadel.” Interesting, though I didn’t have time to read it now. Finally, Jacob gave a quick report, a smattering of Cerberus intel. Reports -- unconfirmed -- of Collector sightings. Movements of the Migrant Fleet. Rumors -- all false -- of more human colonies disappearing. Rumblings about Shadow Broker. General information about the state of the galaxy, including a strange report of geth sightings on Eden Prime, prompting a crack from Vakarian about the age of Cerberus’ intel, but nothing particularly useful.

 

Then, it was over.

 

I remained seated as Shepard and Vakarian left, talking to each other. Vakarian gave me a look -- one I couldn’t decipher, due again to his damnable alien face. I informed Solus that there’d be more seekers awaiting us at the Citadel, and he thanked me before leaving as well. Which left just me and Jacob.

 

“This isn’t a good idea, Miranda.” Ever the good soldier, Jacob hadn’t voiced his concerns in front of his superior officer. He didn’t give orders, he followed them. But apparently, that didn’t apply to me. We’d been too long as equals, apparently, and I lacked the god-like aura of respect and myth that Shepard had. That thought rankled a bit, actually, now that I’d had it. She may have come back from the dead, but I was the one who’d done it. That should have counted for something, but of course it couldn’t. After all, anyone could have overseen the project. My father’s influence, again. Anyone else with training could have done that. I’d just had the benefit of the training.

 

“Then find me a better one, Jacob.” There was a bit of a bite to my tone. More than was necessary, perhaps, but I didn’t like being second guessed. Especially not by him.

 

“We’re a Cerberus vessel, remember? The Council doesn’t exactly like Cerberus. Shepard doesn’t exactly like Cerberus. Who’s to say they won’t shoot us down? Or that Shepard won’t betray us as soon as she’s with Councilor Anderson?”

 

In response, I punched a few buttons on my omnitool, opening a comm channel with the cockpit. “Mr. Moreau?”

 

“What? I mean, yes, Operative Lawson?” There was a trace of mockery there. I ignored it.

 

“Could C-Sec shoot down this ship?”

 

“You kidding me, ma’am?” I waited. “No, you’re not. Of course you’re not. No. Not a chance. This ship can fly circles around anything C-Sec has. Gotta hand it to Cerberus -- I may not like your methods but you can make a damn fine ship.” I shot Jacob a look. “Expecting trouble, ma’am?”

 

“No, Mr. Moreau. Just like to be prepared.” i closed the channel, and tried not to look too smug.

 

“That doesn’t address the risk of betrayal.” Jacob was getting surly, which wasn’t surprising. He thought he was losing the argument. Or perhaps it was because he was losing the argument to me. He might still have been bitter about things past.

 

“What’s she going to do, turn us in? She can’t conclusively tie us to anything illegal.”

 

“Aside from being members of a group the Council and the Alliance have branded terrorists.”

  
I ignored the interruption. “And, more importantly, once she talks to the Council, she’ll see that if she wants to help the colonists, we’re the only ones doing anything. Our spies tell us the Council still insists that the attack two years ago was just Saren and the geth, with an experimental geth dreadnought. And we know the Alliance isn’t doing much for the colonies, because that could be construed as an act of war and their position in the Council is fragile enough. Besides, there’s reports from the quarians, the Blue Suns, and Omega that Shepard is with Cerberus now. I imagine it’s taking most of Anderson’s clout to keep her from being called in on less friendly terms. She’d need to rebuild her credibility before she could try something like that.” This time, I didn’t try to avoid the smugness. Jacob was beaten, and he knew it. “Now, if there’s nothing further, it’ll be some time before we reach the Citadel. I’m going to my quarters.”


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

The Normandy SR-2

The trip to the Citadel seemed to be going peacefully enough. I tried my best to sleep through what parts of it I could, but the frequent relay jumps made that impossible, and eventually I settled for just takng a stim. Maybe I could talk Shepard in to an extended layover at the Citadel. Or maybe C-Sec would take us all in to custody and I wouldn’t have to. It must have been how tired I was — I couldn’t seem to keep track of when I’d last truly slept since things on Lazarus Station had gone pear-shaped — but Jacob’s concern was lingering in my mind. It was probably nothing. No, it was nothing. Cerberus’s legal standing was irrelevant. My legal record was spotless, as was Jacob’s. We’d be fine. I just needed to remember to get some sleep.

Since that seemed to be eluding me, I settled for reading the latest dossier. Not for the first time, I wondered how many of these actually existed. With no idea what to expect on this mission, I imagined dozens, at least, but I had no real way of telling. This one seemed fairly straightforward, though. Kasumi Goto was, put bluntly, a thief. Of course, there was nothing official linking her to many of the cases included in the dossier, but I didn’t doubt the Illusive Man’s sources. If he had reason to believe she was attached to these cases, I’d trust him. More to the point, if this was an accurate assessment of Goto’s abilities, I could see why she was included. Her skills in infiltration were unmatched. There was no “official” metric, for obvious reasons, but I suspected she’d beat even Shepard if it came down to it. I forwarded the dossier to Shepard, with a note about making her recruitment a priority when we got to the Citadel. If we ever got to a point of actually taking the fight to the Collectors, we were sure to come across computers that would need hacking. No reason not to have the best.

A buzz came on my door intercom, alerting me that I had a visitor. I expected it was Jacob, probably with some new argument for why going to the Citadel was a bad idea. I sighed before pressing the button to open the door, and was surprised when Shepard walked in. For a moment she said nothing, merely looking around the office, then glancing at the bedroom behind me.

“Nice place.”

“The perks of rank, Shepard.” I continued to watch her as she walked around the office area. Was she remembering the Normandy SR1, perhaps? When her quarters would have been positioned roughly where mine were now?

“No fish tank, though.”

“No fish tank.” I agreed. Was she mocking me? The fish tank was — well, the psychological profile had suggested that she’d like to have pets. Inwardly, I was pleased that I was right, but I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was teasing me. “Can I help you with something, Commander?’

“Do you have a minute?”

I fought back a sigh. I’d been dreading this moment. I already knew she’d spoken to Jacob and some of the crew. I’d figured it was only a matter of time. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. Cerberus isn’t as evil as most people believe. If I can help allay those concerns —,”

“Actually, I was hoping you might tell me about yourself.”

For a second, I froze. Hadn’t we already had this talk? What more could she possibly need to know about me? I’d told her everything that was relevant to the mission. What was her motive here? Was this some ploy, an attempt to turn me against the Illusive Man? No. She seemed open. Friendly. If this was a ploy, it was a transparent one. “I guess that’s fair. After all, I spent the last two years learning everything there is to know about you.” I smiled what I hoped was a warm smile, and got no response. Had that been the wrong thing to say? I wasn’t sure. Father hadn’t really allowed for friends, and once I was with Cerberus I’d risen through the ranks so quickly that I’d never really had time for cameraderie. Only acquaintances and underlings. Even Jacob, for all we’d done together, wasn’t really a friend. I stood up, heading to one of the shelves and unnecessarily straigthening the books, hoping Shepard wouldn’t notice the embarassment and confusion. “Well, you shouldn’t probably know I’ve had extensive genetic modification. Not my choice, but I make the most of it. It’s one of the reasons the Illusive Man handpicked me. I’m very good at just about anything I choose to try.”

“What type of genetic modifcation are we talking about?”

“It’s very thorough. Physically, I’m superior in many ways. I heal quickly, don’t get sick, and will likely live half again as long as the average human. My reflexes, my strength — even my looks, were all designed to give me an edge. My biotic abilities are also very advanced. Well, for a human. Add in the best training and education money can buy…it’s pretty impressive, really.” Without realizing it, I’d turned back to Shepard, almost as though I was displaying myself. Maybe I was. The way I’d spoken certainly made it sound like I had.

“Sounds like you were designed to be perfect.” The words came like a slap. How much did she know? Who could’ve told her? Jacob, perhaps, and I supposed the salarian could have worked it out, smart as he was. Hell, given how quickly salarians matured, there was a chance — a very slight chance — that Solus had been among the geneticists my father had consulted in my creation. 

“I’m not. I’m still human, Shepard. I make mistakes, like everyone else. And when I do, the consequences are…severe. People expect a lot from someone with my abilities.” I returned to my desk and sat down, averting my eyes from Shepard. “Was there anything else? I have some work to finish up before we reach the Citadel.”

“I — no. Thanks for your time. We’ll talk later.” She saw herself out. I just stared at the screen in front of me, eyes burning, hoping I’d been fast enough that she hadn’t seen the tears.


End file.
